An Unanticipated Symmetry
by DizzyAlice
Summary: I couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of guilt that suddenly filled me. What was I thinking those years ago? How had I ever let him go? I didn't have the answers to this yet. All I knew was that I needed him back. Style, Stendy, minor Cryde, Stan's POV
1. So For Now Your Voice Can Stay

_An Unanticipated Symmetry  
Chapter One -- So For Now Your Voice Can Stay_

A/N: Here it is, the winner of the poll you voted in! This story is told in Stan's POV, and is mainly Style but it also contains _a lot_ of Stendy (especially in the beginning) which is kind of weird for me. I used to HATE Wendy but I actually kind of like her now o_o There's just so many different ways you can write her character, especially in a Style-centric fic... plus the fact that she's pretty and I like drawing her =) Anyways, there is also going to be a side-pairing of Cryde but that probably won't happen for a while. This fic has been giving me a bit of writer's block so far (I have like three-quarters of the second chapter done already) so updates might be slower. But reviews always inspire me to write more =)

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"You're really gonna leave me here all alone?" he asked in a small voice, peering up at me from beneath his lashes. He was sad. I was sad, too, but there really was nothing to be done.

"I have to, dude. I already tried everything. There's no way to get out of it," I sighed, frustrated. "But… it's only six weeks. I'll be back before you know it."

The car horn beeped. "Stanley!" my mother yelled out the open window. "We have to leave! Hurry up!"

Kyle grinned forlornly, but in a goofy way only twelve-year-olds can really manage. "You better not make all sorts of new friends at summer camp and forget about me, Stan."

I rolled my eyes. "Like that'll ever happen. Besides, I doubt anyone from South Park is even going to be there. It'll probably just be a bunch of kids from some other random towns I'll never see again once we leave."

He gave a small nod of agreement, before pulling me in for a tight hug. "Promise," he whispered in my ear.

I snorted. "I promise, Kyle," I said anyways, wrapping my arms around him.

"_Stanley!_" mom yelled again. Kyle and I let go of each other.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" I screamed back, making a face at Kyle. He laughed. "I gotta go," I muttered. "Look, man… I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too," he whispered. "See you when you get home."

"Yeah. See you." I turned and walked away, climbing into the car with my mother. Turning around to look out the back window, I watched Kyle standing alone in my front yard until we went around the corner. He waved until we disappeared.

I didn't talk to my mom the whole way to camp. I was mad at her, and she knew it. I didn't want to go to this camp, to be away from my friends and South Park practically the whole summer. But she and dad thought it would be "good for me" and it would "help me mature." Yeah, sure, whatever. All I knew was that I wouldn't get to see my super best friend for a month and a half and that was not okay with me.

Once we got to the camp finally, mom took me to sign in and then we hauled all my stuff up to the cabin. There were four bunk beds, lined up next to each other. A few of the other boys had gotten there already, as shown by the bags and such on a few of the beds. I selected an empty top bunk. Just as I was about to leave the cabin to go say goodbye to my mom, I heard a very familiar voice saying my name.

"Stan? Stan _Marsh_?"

I whirled to find the owner of the voice. Sure enough, there stood Craig Tucker himself, at the foot of one of the other beds. "Craig? What are you doing here?"

"My parents made me come," he replied in his usual nasal monotone, rolling his eyes. "Evidently they wanted to get some 'alone time' this summer, so they sent both me and my little sister to camp."

"And we're in the same cabin?" I questioned incredulously. What a coincidence.

"Apparently so," Craig answered, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

"Whatever, dude. I gotta go find my mom. Catch you later." He nodded and I made my exit.

As it turns out, I would be catching quite a bit of Craig later. Apparently it really wasn't a coincidence that Craig and I had ended up in the same cabin. The camp directors, upon seeing that we were from the same town, placed us together because they thought it would be more comfortable for us to have someone we knew. In the end I was kind of thankful for this.

Craig and I found that, despite how different we were, we managed to get along great. We both liked sports and there was plenty of opportunity for playing those, and we both had a bit of a sense of adventure about us. Craig's was significantly less than mine, but he still liked to go exploring. He had chosen the top bunk across from mine and we spent many nights after lights out staying up and whispering to each other.

A camaraderie formed between us that lasted throughout the month and a half of camp. The name _Kyle_ was all but stricken from my vocabulary. I was away for so long, I ended up breaking my promise to him without really intending to.

After camp was over and Craig and I returned to South Park, I was changed. I hadn't realized it, but I really was. Being away from my family and friends and our tiny mountain town for the majority of the summer had managed exactly what my parents had intended. Going into the seventh grade, I felt more grown-up than ever. But everyone else had been left behind, except maybe Craig.

As any child knows, these pre-teen years are an extremely important time for making friends. Most of the friends I made these years were ones I kept for the rest of middle and high school. Conversely, my old friends and I began to grow apart. Cartman had moved on to bigger and better things; he no longer cared about any of us. Kenny was still around some, but more and more often he would mysteriously vanish for days at a time. Even Kyle and I hardly talked when I got home.

I had worried that after camp, Craig and I would go back to not being friends again. Fortunately for me, this was almost immediately disproved. One of Craig's other friends, Token Black, had moved to Boston the past school year. The only other close friend he had was a boy by the name of Clyde Donovan. I had never talked to Clyde much, but once Craig and I started hanging out, Clyde and I were pretty much automatic friends.

And, four years later, it's basically the same. The Saturday before our first day of eleventh grade, and the three of us were sitting in the bed of my pick-up truck, parked near Stark's Pond. Our stomachs were warm and our breath smelled like the liquor Craig had somehow gotten his hands on.

"Look," I said, my voice slow and slightly slurred as I lifted my arm to point at the sky. "That's the big dipper."

"That's not the big dipper, dumbass," Craig replied. "That's Orion's Belt."

"Who cares about constellations?" Clyde drawled. "This is our last real night of freedom! We're supposed to be having fun!"

"This is fun," Craig insisted. "You, me, Marsh, and some liquor. Add in a beautiful summer night and Stan's hunk-a-junk truck, and it sounds pretty close to perfection to me." He raised the bottle in a silent toast before taking another swig out of it, passing it on to me.

"Hey, don't diss the truck. I may not give you a ride home," I growled. My truck may be a piece of crap, but I love it. And I will always stand up for it against those jackasses I call friends.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Craig grumbled, falling to rest against the side of the truck bed next to me, leaning his head on my shoulder. "Fuck school. This sucks. I don't wanna go."

"Dude, no one wants to go," Clyde replied, grabbing the bottle out of my hand and swallowing a mouthful. "Just something we gotta deal with."

We sat in silence for a while, staring at the stars and passing around the bottle. "Hey, uh, Craig," I said after a while. "Hate to break it to you, but my arm fell asleep. Mind moving your head?"

Just to spite me, he pushed it further onto my shoulder. "Nah, I'm good."

"Wow, I'm kind of turned on right now," I replied, grinning at Clyde. He grinned back as Craig quickly sat up straight again.

"Dude, not cool," Craig growled. I snickered.

"Come on, you know I was kidding. Besides, I don't need to resort to you. I've already got a girlfriend, in case you forgot."

"How could we forget, you only talk about her every five seconds."

Laughing, I replied, "Aw, Craig, don't be jealous. You've got a girlfriend too, remember?" I gestured towards Clyde.

Then they both glared at me and I knew I was a dead man. I was simultaneously punched in both the stomach and the arm.

"Kidding!" I yelled. Fortunately for me, they both backed off, Craig deciding instead to take another swallow of alcohol. "Violence," I muttered accusingly.

"Hate to say it, Stan, but you had every bit of that coming to you," Clyde told me. I knew this, of course, but it didn't mean I wasn't pissed.

Another typical night out with the guys.

We finally decided to head home around one. Clyde had drank the least out of the three of us, so he drove. We dropped Craig off first, before stopping at Clyde's house. He made sure I was okay to make it the rest of the way home on my own before going inside. He's definitely the most responsible out of all of us.

Quietly entering my already dark home, I started up the stairs. My dad emerged from my parents' room just as I got to the top.

"Stan," he said, yawning. "Are you just getting in?"

I nodded, breathing through my nose and hoping he wouldn't smell the alcoholic scent that followed me like a cloud.

"Alright. Well, get some sleep. You'll need it. And some aspirin."

I grinned. "Thanks, dad," I mumbled, moving past him into my room. I didn't even bother changing out of my clothes before collapsing onto the bed, way more tired than I had previously thought.

Three-quarters of the way through the first day of school, and we were finally given a reprieve for lunch. I stared around the bustling cafeteria, trying to spot my friends. Finally, my eyes landed on a girl with long black hair, similarly scanning the room. Her back was to me. I grinned as I silently made my way over to her.

"Looking for someone?" I whispered in her ear. She whirled around, sapphire eyes widened, before letting out a sigh of relief.

"Jesus, Stan, you scared me half to death," she muttered. "Don't sneak up on me like that."

I grinned. "Sorry, Wends," I apologized softly. She returned my smile before leaning up to press her lips to mine. "Now come on, let's find a table."

I felt like I had hardly seen Wendy all summer. It really had only been since July, but still. She had gone on vacation with her parents for three weeks in August, and since she was taking so many advanced classes she had a lot of summer work to do. I kept trying to get together with her but she was always too busy. It kind of sucked. And now that football season was starting we would get even less time together.

Everyone talks about Wendy and I like we're the perfect couple. She's top of our class, I'm supposedly this big football star (I'm really not all that good). We dated when we were in elementary school, but then kind of forgot about each other after we broke up in sixth grade. It was one of those stupid kid relationships that doesn't really mean anything. But then, back in freshman year, we started talking again, and discovered that we really did like each other.

We have our problems. We're only human. We argue, we'll go for weeks without talking sometimes. We've even broken up twice only to get back together a month or two later. But I think that we're able to get past all this because, deep down, we really love each other. I often finding myself wondering what I did to deserve a girl as smart and beautiful and awesome as Wendy.

Even though we didn't have any classes together this year, it was nice that we had lunch. And we could see each other after school, so long as we didn't have anything else going on.

After lunch we parted ways and I went off to English class. I actually tended to kind of like English. I liked to write, even though most of my stuff was bad and I didn't let people read it. But it was still interesting to learn about other writers.

The teacher stood at her desk in the front of the room. "Name?" she asked as I entered.

"Stan Marsh," I replied. She scanned her seating chart.

"Marsh?" she repeated. I nodded. She scribbled a little note on the paper and looked back up at me. "Your seat is back there, next to Mr. Broflovski."

"Thanks," I mumbled, turning around. Sure enough, there sat Kyle, next to the empty desk that was apparently designated for me. Well. This should be an interesting year.

"Hey, Stan," Kyle greeted as I took my place. He smiled.

"Hey," I replied quietly. Kyle and I hardly ever talked anymore. It wasn't that we had a grudge against each other or anything. We had just both gone our separate ways. We were different people than we had been back in elementary school.

Let me explain just how much Kyle has changed. He wears his hair longer, the springy red curls falling around his face and almost to his shoulders. Apparently he'd gotten one of his eyebrows pierced, something I hadn't noticed until just now. Maybe it was new. I hadn't seen him since last school year. He wears band shirts and ripped jeans and Chucks. He still does pretty well in school, but that's because he's naturally smart and doesn't need to study.

And then there are the rumors. He has a ton of girl friends, but never a girlfriend. He actually hardly has any guy friends. He still hangs out with Kenny some, but other than that, I don't really think there is anyone. He never talks about dating, or anything of that nature. There's never been any solid proof either way for him. But a lot of people talk. And they don't always say such nice things.

So as you can imagine, it's just a little bit awkward for me to be forced to sit next to Kyle now.

"So, Stan, what were you up to this summer?" He watched me out of the corner of his eyes, his head only slightly turned towards me. His hands absently toyed with his pen.

"Eh, not much. Mostly just hung out with Craig and Clyde… and Wendy, when she was around. What about you?"

"Mom went on one of her protesting rampages and dragged me all around the country with her," he replied, rolling his eyes and grinning. "It was pretty cool, I guess. She was annoying. But we saw some awesome places. And when we were out in California I learned how to surf."

"Sweet," I said, slightly jealous. I had always wanted to learn to surf, and it sucked for me to be stuck in a place that was nowhere near an ocean of any sort. "Sounds like you had a way more exciting summer than I did."

He shrugged one shoulder. "I suppose. I wouldn't have minded just hanging around here, though."

I scoffed. "Why would you ever _willingly_ hang out in South Park? There's nothing to do here."

"Yeah, but at least I could see my friends. And it's not like there's much to do other places when you've been ditched by your mom and you don't know anyone and can't go do anything," he reasoned.

I shrugged one shoulder. "I suppose," I replied, still unconvinced.

Kyle chuckled. "Maybe we can just agree to disagree," he said.

The teacher finally decided to make us settle down so she could start class then, therefore causing my conversation with Kyle to discontinue. I had forgotten just how easy it was to talk with him. He was just one of those people that could keep the words going no matter what. We had a few hushed side-conversations as the teacher was going over the class syllabus, but she kept shooting us dirty looks, so we tried to keep quiet.

Once class was over, Kyle turned to look at me again, grinning. "See you later," he said.

"Yeah," I replied. It was impossibly effortless for me to return his smile. Talking to him was reminding me about why we had been such good friends for so long. Something about our personalities just matched. It was one of those things in life where it just _works_, no questions asked.

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A/N: Sorry Kyle wasn't in this chapter much, I had a lot of backstory and I didn't want to skimp too much on it. He'll be in it much more from now on, I promise =)

Please review! ^_^


	2. Love Will Find A Way

_An Unanticipated Symmetry  
Chapter Two -- Love Will Find A Way_

A/N: Ughh this fic is killing me I'm getting such bad writer's block. This chapter I actually like, but the next one is giving me issues. I'm not lying in the slightest when I say the only thing keeping me going are the reviews that I got on the last chapter. But now I have no clue what to write and I have a headache but I'm trying!  
Hah it's kind of ironic that this song came up on iTunes shuffle for the chapter title, considering o_o Well, you'll see. The chapter title quote is from "You've Got To Hide Your Love Away" by the Beatles =)  
...I don't own the Beatles or claim rights to the quote that I used buried in this chapter xD

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The rest of the day dragged, as the first day of school often does. We had already had summer training for football for a week, and it was continued that night after school. I didn't even get home until nine, already exhausted. As much as I loved football, I already was looking forward to the season being over so I could have some free time again.

The next day after school we were given a break from training. My parents were out. The situation was finally perfect and I managed to convince Wendy to come over. She had some studying to do, so she sat at my desk and tried to finish it. I sat on my bed and waited, messing around on my guitar.

Wendy loves when I play my guitar for her. Due to a certain incident involving a hit song and hybrid cars, I don't tend to play it for other people often, but she's an exception. It's mostly self-taught, so I usually just make up stuff as I go along, but I do know a few legit songs.

I played a string of chords from a song I had been working on recently.

"That's pretty," she notified me. "What's it from?"

I smiled, not answering her question. I wanted to save the fact that I was attempting to write a song for her a surprise until it was done. But I was overjoyed that she liked it so far. Instead I started in on another song, written not by me but instead by the greatest band of all time. Her eyes lit up when she recognized it.

"I've just seen a face, I can't forget the time or place where we just met. She's just the girl for me and I want all the world to see we've met…" I sang. I continued on through the first chorus before she came over and caught my hand to silence the notes. I looked up at her, a slightly surprised smile on my face.

"I love you," she murmured, gently picking up the guitar and moving it so that she could replace it on my lap as our lips became conjoined. We fell backwards onto my bed and then neither of us talked and I was very thankful that my parents shouldn't be home for a few more hours and I had remembered to lock the door to my room just in case.

I woke up to the faint smell of peaches. When I opened my eyes, all I could see was black. Moving my head slightly, I discovered that I had my face buried in Wendy's hair. She was still asleep, curled up into my chest. She wore her underwear and my t-shirt, which was much too big on her and incredibly sexy. I had on nothing but my boxers.

I trailed a whisper-soft line of kisses across her cheek and down her neck. Her eyes flew open and her pale pink lips spread into a slow smile.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi yourself," I murmured in reply.

"So much for finishing my studying," she said, pouting. "You were supposed to wait until I was done. It's not fair if you sabotage me with your amazing singing."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. Sure. Amazing singing. Right."

"Shut up." She smacked me lightly on the arm. "It's good and you know it. And even if it wasn't – which it _is_, stop giving me that look, Stan – I would appreciate it anyways because any guy that isn't ashamed to sing to his girlfriend is unbearably sweet."

"So I'm unbearable now, am I?" I growled playfully, rolling over so that my body was poised over her. She giggled and dragged me down by my shoulder so that she could kiss me.

"You know I mean that in the best way possible," she teased.

"Oh gee thanks."

"You're welcome. Now come on, I really do have to finish my work."

I groaned, rolling off of her. We both sat up. "Come _on_, Wends! I've hardly seen you all summer, and when we finally get to spend some time together, you want to ruin it by _studying_?"

"Alrighty then, Mr. Oh-I-can't-I-have-training," she replied, frowning.

"That's different."

"Oh, is it now. Would you care to explain to me, Stanley, just how it's different?"

I thought for a minute. I couldn't really think of any reasons. But that didn't mean I was going to let her win this. "It just is, okay? We have our first game in just a couple of weeks. We have to be ready."

She opened her mouth to retaliate, but cut herself off. She sighed, the angered look on her face softening. "Stan. I don't want to fight, okay? We both have commitments. It makes it tough. Which is why we just have to work that much harder, all right? I can respect the fact that you have football training quite a bit, but you have to respect that I need to keep my grades up and therefore I have to study."

"I know, I just… I never get to see you anymore, Wends. It makes me sad." I reached out and pulled her into a hug.

"Yeah…" she said, in a weird, distant tone of voice. Suddenly, she quickly kissed me on the cheek, before pulling out of my embrace and getting up off the bed. "Look, I should be going. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

I stayed where I was and watched as she dressed, slightly confused. She was acting sort of weird tonight. I wanted to ask why, but she would just tell me it was nothing. Like always. She gave me a short, chaste kiss goodbye before exiting. Curious, very curious.

Once my mom finally got home that night, she immediately sent me back out to go grocery shopping for her. Ever since I had gotten my license, it was like a personal excuse for her to make me run errands. I hated it. But it was either that or go without food for the week.

It was already getting dark on the way home from the store. All of a sudden, something ran out in front of my truck, and it was followed by a soft bump. "Shit!" I yelled to myself, pulling over and getting out of the truck quick.

Jogging back, I saw a small raccoon lying on the road. It couldn't have been an adult, it was too tiny. Upon further inspection, I discovered it was still breathing.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit," I chanted. "What do I do…"

Yeah, I talk to myself when I'm stressed. So what? It's perfectly normal.

"Stan?" asked a voice from behind me. I whirled around to see Kyle standing on the sidewalk, watching me curiously. "What are you doing?"

"I hit this raccoon, dude, and it's still alive, I have to help it," I informed him, my words jumbling together in a rush. I had always had a soft spot for animals and there was no way I was going to leave that thing dying in the street.

He came over and crouched next to me, inspecting the small, furry creature that seemed to be having trouble breathing. "It doesn't look like it's hurt too bad," he murmured.

"What do we do, do we take it to the vet? Do they even treat raccoons at the vet? Oh god, it's so little and helpless, just look at it, I feel so bad–"

"_Stan_," Kyle interrupted my monologue. "Calm down. It'll be okay. We'll take it to the vet."

He disappeared then, and I finally stopped freaking enough to notice that we were right in front of his house, which was probably how he had just popped out of nowhere like that. I looked back at the raccoon and other than its breathing it wasn't moving. Oh god. I can't believe I hit it, I've never hit anything with my car before…

Kyle finally came back, carrying a towel. He carefully wrapped the towel around the raccoon and picked it up. It growled at him, but other than that, I think it was too weak to do anything.

"Can you drive, or do you want me to?" he asked me, cradling the small animal.

"No, I can do it," I replied, taking deep breaths and trying to calm myself. I climbed back into the truck, him walking around to the passenger seat. "Doesn't your mom care that you're going out?"

"Nah, she's not home."

"Really? Where is she?"

"Where do you think?" He rolled his eyes. "Out protesting, of course."

"What's her cause this time?" I was mostly just talking to keep my mind off the dying animal currently sitting on Kyle's lap.

"You know, I've sort of lost track. She has, like, five new ones every day. I can't keep up anymore." He sounded vaguely annoyed.

"What about your dad?"

"Still at work. He works a lot. You should know that, Stan," he added, glancing at me out of the corner of those intensely green eyes he has.

"Right. I just forgot. It's been a while since we've hung out," I mumbled. I couldn't even remember the last time I had said more than a few words to Kyle before English class yesterday.

"Why is that, exactly?" he inquired suddenly. I frowned. I really did not want to have this conversation right now, but there was no escape.

"Shit, dude, I don't know. We grew up. People change. I guess we changed, too."

He looked thoughtful, remaining quiet for a minute, like he was digesting my words. "I guess," he finally said. "It's kind of too bad, though. That we didn't stay friends."

I felt a sudden pang of guilt. Like he was trying to pin this all on me. I knew he wasn't, Kyle was a good guy. He wouldn't do that. But still, I sort of did feel like it was my fault. I was the one who had gone and gotten new friends and ditched him. He always called me those following months. But after a while, when he realized I wasn't making much of an effort myself, he just sort of gave up.

We stayed silent until we finally got to the vet's. Kyle talked to the secretary, while I paced in the background. I heard him say something about "my friend" and "raccoon" and decided it was kind of weird that he still referred to me as his friend. But how else would he say it – "This person that I used to be friends with but not so much anymore though we both happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time?" That confused the hell out of me just thinking about it.

Eventually he came over to where I was, quiet and raccoon-less. "They said they'll see what they can do," he informed me. I could already tell from the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice that I shouldn't get my hopes up. "We can wait here if we want."

He didn't even give me a chance to reply before moving to sit in one of a row of chairs conveniently placed nearby. I gradually made my way over as well, sitting next to him. I sighed, burying my face in my hands.

"You seem stressed," he pointed out. "Not just about the raccoon. What's going on?"

"Nothing," I responded immediately. He cynically arched a pierced eyebrow at me. "It's just… it's Wendy." I hadn't even known I was worrying about this until the words came out of my mouth.

"You guys are having problems?" Kyle questioned.

"No. Yeah. Sort of. I don't know," I groaned, sliding further down in my chair. "It's just – we hardly saw each other all summer. And today I finally got her to come over after school. So what happens? We get in a fight. I mean, we fight a lot, but now more so than usual. I can hardly be around her without us arguing about _something_. And then afterwards she got all weird and distant, and then she just left." Out of habit, I moved my hand to pinch the bridge of my nose. "I just don't get it."

Kyle reached out, gently covering my hand with his own and moving it away from my face. "It'll be okay," he promised with a reassuring smile. "You love her, right? And love conquers all. So you'll figure something out."

"How can you say that with such conviction?" I asked, eyeing him incredulously.

He grinned. "Because I know you, Stan. Or at least enough to know that you're impossibly stubborn, which means you won't just give up on her."

I snorted. "Yeah, well, being impossibly stubborn usually isn't a good thing."

"In this case it is. It might be the best thing, actually."

Just then a door to the side of the waiting room opened and the vet came out, walking over to us. "I'm sorry, boys," he said. "There was nothing we could do."

Awesome. This has been an awesome day. "God damn it," I muttered.

"Do you want your towel back?" the vet asked Kyle, holding up the bloodied mass. Kyle made a face.

"No thanks. You can keep it."

The vet nodded and disappeared again, Kyle's towel in tow.

"You okay, dude?" Kyle asked me quietly.

"Oh yeah. I'm great. Excellent. _Superb_. I'm potentially losing my girlfriend and I get to be a raccoon murderer all on the same day – lucky me!"

He frowned. "Let's just go, then." I followed him out the door and back to my truck, where I saw the bags of groceries I was supposed to have taken home already sitting in the bed.

"Shit," I muttered. "As if this day could get worse."

"Oh, I'm sure it could get plenty worse!" Kyle replied optimistically, grinning. I had to resist the overwhelming urge to punch him.

We stayed quiet pretty much the whole way back to his house. When I finally pulled up in front of it again, we turned to each other, neither of us really knowing how to say goodbye.

"Stan?" Kyle spoke finally. I gave a slight nod. "…All things considered, it was sort of nice hanging out with you again."

I grinned easily. "Yeah, because killing raccoons and spoiling groceries while I vent to you about my problems sounds like such a party."

He returned my smile, a little shyly, it seemed. "Just like old times, dude."

"Just like old times," I repeated quietly, contemplating the statement. Kyle and I really did go on some crazy adventures when we were kids – I had sort of missed that.

"Well, I should probably get going… my parents will be home soon. See you around?" he asked hopefully.

"Yeah, see you," I replied. His face lit up in a quick grin before he opened the door and exited my truck. I watched his retreating figure as he walked up the lawn to his house. I felt a sudden, desperate urge to leap out and run after him, but I quickly shook it off as I turned the key in the ignition and drove away.

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A/N: The best part is, it's totally canonical how Stan freaks out whenever he accidentally hurts animals or whatever xD Like in that one episode, I forget what it was called (or what season or anything) where he and Cartman crashed a boat into a beaver dam and after swimming to shore all Stan had to say was "I hope I didn't hurt any beavers" or something along those lines.  
Please review to help fend off the writer's block and get more updates~


	3. I Wanna Taste The Salt Of Your Skin

_An Unanticipated Symmetry  
Chapter Three -- I Wanna Taste The Salt Of Your Skin_

A/N: The first half of this chapter is the peak of my writer's block. Which is kind of why it's lulzepicfail. I mostly just wanted to get through that part. I wanted to elaborate more on, like, the football game and the convo between Stan and Craig, but I just _couldn't_. Luckily for me by the end I finally picked up by the end and so hopefully *knocks on wood* it should be smooth sailing from here on out.  
Thanks for the reviews on the previous chapters, they really kept me going =) Keep it up!

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We had a shortened week, which meant the next day was Saturday, and I had football the majority of it. I wasn't able to see Wendy that weekend because she had a family thing or something. She didn't go into great detail. So I opted to spend Sunday afternoon playing video games with Craig and Clyde instead.

Due to the rotating schedule that our school follows, I didn't have English class on Monday. Therefore, I didn't even see Kyle again until the following day.

"There's like, this giant-ass bloodstain in the middle of my street. It's been there all weekend," he said by way of greeting as I took my seat.

I groaned. "You just had to remind me. I'm a murderer, dude!" A couple of the people sitting around us stared at me with a horrified expression. Kyle and I exchanged a glance before we both burst out into laughter.

"Oh god…" he breathed, still chuckling. "That was so priceless…"

I really had sort of missed this. I mean, Craig and Clyde and I were great friends, and I loved hanging out with them. But… I guess you only ever have one super best friend. I felt overwhelmingly guilty all of a sudden for having forgotten mine. I didn't even know who Kyle had been hanging out with lately.

The thing is, we've hardly talked to each other in four years. Why was it that, all of a sudden, I felt the need to get him back into my life?

We ate lunch together that day, but only because Craig and Clyde had gotten detention for some stupid prank or something, and Wendy was nowhere to be found. It kind of made me wonder where she was, but surprisingly enough I didn't think much of it.

I finally found her again at the end of the day, where she appeared waiting for me at my locker. I happily greeted her, but she just gave a small smile and stared straight through me, lost in thought. I silently slid my hand around hers as we walked out to our respective cars.

Upon arrival at the rusty indigo truck, I discovered that it wasn't unoccupied. Craig sat sprawled in the bed, waiting. One toe of his Converse tapped slightly to the beat of the song flowing through the headphones of his music player. His hazel eyes hid behind shaggy black hair. His legs looked stick-thin in black skinny jeans.

"Waiting for someone?" I called. He sat up straight, gaze falling on me.

"Yeah, took you long enough. Can you give me a ride?"

I rolled my eyes. "Sure, whatever." I turned back to Wendy, who gave me a reassuring smile.

"I might be out later, so I'll call you tonight," she promised. I nodded before deftly leaning down to give her a slow kiss goodbye. She gently pulled away before continuing walking, alone, to where her car was parked further down the lot.

"Dude, why can't you drive yourself?" I questioned Craig as we both slid into our seats.

"Dad took the keys away after I broke curfew again over the weekend. You know how he gets about that," Craig mumbled in response.

Craig's family situation was kind of strange. It was a bit… dysfunctional, to say the least. His dad has been in and out of jobs for a while, and doesn't have a terribly good relationship with Craig and his little sister. His mom works long hours as a nurse at the hospital, and the few hours a day that she is around, her and Craig's dad are constantly arguing. The majority of the time they couldn't care less what their kids do, but every once in a while, especially if Mr. Tucker is in a bad mood, he'll snap at any little thing – like, say, Craig breaking curfew for the zillionth time.

"I see. So how did you get to school this morning?"

"Clyde, of course. He picked me up. But apparently he's staying after school for something or other today." Craig continued to stare straight ahead as I drove along, but I glanced over in time to catch the small twitch at the corner of his mouth as he mentioned his best friend's name.

Craig and Clyde are closer than I could ever even hope to be with either one of them. Sometimes seeing them together reminds me of how Kyle and I used to be. The three of us hang out all the time, but when I'm off with Wendy or whatever, Craig and Clyde are always together. Sometimes I'll hang with just Craig, but rarely will you find Clyde and I alone.

There really is something deeper between them, though. Like, I poke fun at them all the time, but it's only because I can see that their relationship is definitely not strictly platonic. At least on Craig's side. I don't think he'd ever admit it to anyone, least of all me or Clyde, but he totally has a boner for that guy. I'd never talk to him about this, though, other than the aforementioned joking. I value my life too much. For a skinny kid Craig can throw a punch. Especially if it was over an issue involving Clyde.

We didn't talk much the rest of the way to Craig's house. The few words we did say were unimportant conversations about nothing. Everyone seemed too stuck in their own heads for me today. It was a bit bothersome.

Wendy forgot to call.

The weeks following were routine, at best. I went to school. I went to football training. I saw Wendy when I could, and spent time with the guys when I couldn't. Kyle and I continued talking, but we didn't make much more of an effort outside of English class.

Finally came the time for our first game of the season. I'm not going to lie, I was a bit nervous. Like I said, people build me up to be way better than I am at football. There's always this pressure on me not to let them down. At least I had Craig and Clyde to back me.

Contrasting my two friends – and myself, even – was nearly comical. I have a natural football player's build, tall with wide shoulders. Clyde was shorter, much shorter than either Craig or I, but he was pretty buff. Craig, however, was a guy you would never in a million years suspect to play football based on his appearance. Tall and thin as a rail. But that kid could run like nobody's business, and was for this reason a great asset to our team. He was one of the best halfbacks Park County High had ever seen.

When we finally made our way out to the field, I instantly scanned the bleachers. My eyes immediately found Wendy, low in the stands with a few of her friends. Once she caught my eye she waved, and I grinned in response. I let my gaze drift over the other parents and students, halting once again as it fell on a mass of flaming red curls. _What's he doing here?_ I couldn't help but wonder. _He never comes to the games_.

"Stan, come on, we have to go," Clyde was saying, tugging at my arm to get my attention. I turned and began to follow him, still glancing back into the stands distractedly every now and again.

The game went fairly well, I suppose. I only played for about half. We ended up winning, but just barely. Nevertheless, we were proud of our victory. I felt good about myself for a brief while, as Wendy sprinted over and practically tackled me to the ground. Until I realized a boy with electric green eyes had disappeared from my point of view.

Kyle was out of school for a full week. I guess we had grown closer again over the past month or so than I had realized, because I found myself worrying about him. He's always had a weak immune system, and he gets sick really easily. I hoped he was okay.

Wendy was still acting on-and-off weird. Sometimes she would be completely normal, and then, out of the blue, she would grow all strange and quiet and usually make some excuse to leave. It was bugging me. I had tried to talk to her about it a couple of times, but as predicted, she denied that anything was wrong.

We were having lunch together, per usual, and she was doing the peculiar staring-through-me-like-I-wasn't-even-there thing again. I stared right back, searching her sapphire eyes, trying to get a clue from their watery depths as to what was bugging her.

Finally, she noticed this, her gaze focusing on me again. "What?" she asked, frowning self-consciously.

"Wends, come on. Something's going on with you. Don't tell me that nothing's wrong, because you're obviously lying. You can trust me, right? Just talk to me," I begged quietly, one last desperate attempt to reason with her.

Her perfect pink lips turned into a frown, her brow creasing with what could be either doubt or concern. I suspected the former. She opened her mouth as if to speak, before shutting it and looking towards the ground, as if it held the answers to all her problems instead of me.

I had to hold in a groan. I had been so close. But she still wouldn't talk. I reached out, wrapping my hand around the one that she had resting on the table. "Babe, I'm worried about you," I told her, keeping my eyes locked on hers. She finally shifted her gaze to me again. "Come on. We haven't been seeing each other nearly enough recently. Let me take you out, okay? I haven't taken you out in ages. I think it will be good for us."

She bit the inside of her lip, clearly trying to make up her mind, before setting her mouth into a firm, decided line. "Yeah. Yeah, let's go out."

I smiled, glad I had at least received this small triumph. Maybe things weren't as bad between us as I had previously suspected. I'd been starting to fear the worst, but I wasn't going to give up on her just yet.

Saturday night came, the night I was supposed to be taking Wendy out. I was planning on taking her to one of the few fairly nice restaurants in town, so I put on my khakis and a dress shirt. In my truck and halfway to her house, my cell phone starts ringing. It's Wendy.

"Stan, I'm really sorry, but something came up and I'm going to have to ask you for a rain check," she said in a rush as soon as I answered the phone.

I should've known she would blow me off. She's been spending as little time as possible with me lately. I sighed, clearly frustrated, but reassured her that it was okay. She apologized again before hanging up.

Not feeling like heading home just yet, I drove aimlessly until I somehow ended up downtown. Feeling a sudden need for caffeine, I parked the car outside of Harbucks to get myself a coffee.

While waiting in line, a rather familiar voice came from behind me. "All dressed up and no place to go, eh Stan?" it asked. For some reason my heart jumped a little bit when I turned around to see a smiling Kyle standing behind me.

"Dude, where have you been? You weren't in school all week," I informed him, though obviously he already knew this. I couldn't stop the smile that was slowly creeping across my lips as well.

"I was sick. Strep throat. Super fun stuff," he replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "But I'm better now. Mostly."

"That sucks. I'm glad that you're on your way to recovery." We both grinned. It was my turn to order, and, after paying for my drink, I decided to wait for him. After he finished we silently decided to sit and thus I followed him to a table.

"So I never did get to congratulate you on the game last weekend," Kyle started. "You were awesome."

"Thanks," I said, looking away embarrassedly. A fringe of black hair obstructed my vision as an involuntary smile stretched on my mouth.

"Okay, I have to know," he said after a short silence, grinning nervously. "Is there any particular reason you're wearing fancy dress clothes to go on a Harbucks run?"

I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my coffee. No cream and a shitload of sugar, just how I like it. "I was supposed to be going out with Wendy tonight, but she blew me off. I didn't feel like going home yet."

Kyle bit the inside of his lip, looking slightly concerned. "You two still having problems?"

"Yeah. More than before, even. I think she wants to break up. I've tried talking to her, figuring out what's wrong, everything. But she keeps getting more and more distant." It was difficult for me to have those fantastically green eyes penetrating my own just now, so I kept my gaze trained on the warm cup gripped in one of my hands.

"You should talk to her again," he advised, leaning his chin in his hand and his elbow on the table. "Let her know that you're still there for her, no matter what. Remind her how much you care. Maybe she's just afraid of telling you about whatever's going on because she doesn't know how you'll take it."

"Yeah, I guess… It seems like there's something more. I'll try it, but I really doubt it's going to work." I frowned, glancing back up at him for a second. "I love her so much, but if she keeps this up, I don't know if I'll be able to take it anymore."

"Stan, you need to stop worrying so much." His voice was concerned. "Whatever happens, happens. Talk to her again, hope for the best, and see what she does. If it works out, great. If not, well… you know where to find me." Kyle gave a small smile, and for some reason knowing that either way, he would still be there, was a little bit reassuring.

"Okay. Yeah, you're right." I nodded. "I'll give her one last shot. And see what happens."

He grinned at me. "Good. Look, I have to get going, mom will be looking for me… But let me know what happens, okay?"

"Sure. See you around." We smiled at each other as he got up from our table. He patted me on the shoulder before turning to leave. "Kyle?" I called after him. He turned. "…Thanks."

He grinned. "Anytime, Stan. Anytime."

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A/N: I think that Kyle is the cure for my writer's block o_o I only really seem to be having trouble with the parts that don't involve him. Good thing he's pretty much consistently in the story from here on out xD  
The funny part is, that Harbucks scene at the end there was originally supposed to be the first real time Kyle and Stan talked again =D But then I thought up the raccoon scene and it worked better. But this part is still kind of important so I left it in.  
Please review~


	4. I'm Sorry That I'm Such A Mess

_An Unanticipated Symmetry  
Chapter Four -- I'm Sorry That I'm Such A Mess_

A/N: Good news - my writer's block is gone! *knocks on wood* I had to handwrite this chapter in my notebook, so please tell me if you catch any typos because I mess up a lot more when I'm typing out of my notebook. You may have noticed I changed the summary for this story, but that's because the original summary was from a scene that was supposed to take place between Stan and Wendy, but obviously that scene has been cut. Or, rather, moved and changed so it no longer involves Wendy but Craig&Clyde instead. Either way the original summary no longer applied to the story and that needed to be fixed.  
I just figured out today that the acronym for Jimmy Eat World is JEW =D This greatly amuses me. The only thing that that has to do with anything is the chapter title is from a song by JEW... xD  
Anyways, random ranting aside, enjoy the chapter and please review!!

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I tried calling Wendy that night, but she wasn't picking up. I finally managed to get a hold of her on Sunday afternoon, at which time I informed her that I was coming over whether she liked it or not, because I had to talk to her. Surprisingly enough, she agreed, saying she wanted to talk to me, too. Maybe we were finally making progress here.

I didn't even let her greet me as she opened the door upon my arrival. "Look, Wendy, I don't know what's been going on with you lately but it's got me kind of freaked out because you're acting all weird–"

"Stan," she interrupted, but I was determined to finish, no matter what.

"–and I don't like it. But I just wanted to remind you, that I'm here for you, no matter what it is. And you can trust me, you know that, right? God, I hope you know that, because if you don't, then we've got more problems than I thought–"

"Stan, let me explain."

"–but that's okay, because I think that one of the great things about us is that we always seem to manage to fix our problems. So whatever it is, I'm sure if we just talk about it, we can work it out, and then we can get back to normal, because I–"

"_Stan!_"

"–love you, and I just want you to be happy, but you don't seem too happy right now. But maybe if you told me what's going on, it would make you feel better, and then–"

"I'M CHEATING ON YOU!" she yelled.

Well. That shut me up. I was frozen in time, staring at her in disbelief, my mouth still partially open. She looked away from me, a combination of sadness and guilt coalescing into a great, heaving sigh.

"Wh-what?" I managed at last, hoping beyond hope that I had somehow misheard her, that my ears were playing tricks on me, that this was some kind of cruel, twisted joke.

Either way, neither of us were laughing.

"I'm sorry," Wendy whispered desperately, wide sapphire eyes brimming with tears. "I just – I didn't know how to tell you – It's all happening so fast…"

"How long," I demanded, my voice flat and void of emotion. I could hardly hear my own words, what with my mind racing and my heart detaching itself from the rest of my body and all. Wendy's broken my heart before, but never like this. She's never gone this far.

"Over the summer. July." She seemed to be shrinking away from me, like I was scared I would hit her. No matter how upset I was, I would never do that. Never.

"Who is it." Some part of my mind, a part that was still sort of working, decided that if I knew the details, it wouldn't be quite so hard to deal with.

"He lives in North Park. You don't know him." A silent tear slipped out of one of her eyes, rolling slowly down her cheek. "Stan, I'm so sorry. I don't even really know how it happened. It's just, I don't know, something about him… I gave into the temptation, I guess. I still love you, I just – I don't know if I can still do… _us_. Please, Stan, please understand. I didn't want to hurt you."

I just nodded numbly. Suddenly, I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't look at her. I had to get away. The saline was flowing freely down her face before, her eyes pure ocean blue. She had never looked more beautiful.

I turned from her, walked back to my truck, and drove away.

The thought of calling one of my better friends – namely, Craig, though Clyde should've been my obvious second option – didn't even occur to me. Hell, calling _anyone_ at this point wasn't even an option. There was only one person I wanted to talk to right now, and I desperately hoped Kyle was home, otherwise… I honestly didn't know what I would do.

The next thing I knew, I was standing before the brown front door, shivering and wondering what, exactly, I would say to him. It was strange, after all this time, to come back to this once-familiar house and feel like such a stranger. Suddenly convinced this had been a bad idea, I was about to turn around and leave when the door swung open. Funny, I didn't even remember ringing the bell.

"Stanley?" asked the disbelieving, easily recognizable voice of Kyle's mother.

"Hi, Mrs. Broflovski," I smiled sheepishly, staring at her from under my shaggy black bangs. "Is Kyle around?"

She actually started to tear up, a delighted smile on her face as she pulled me into a bone-crushing hug. "It's Sheila, dear, you know that," she reminded me. She held me back at arm's length to examine me, still beaming. I gave a feeble, half-hearted smile.

It wasn't like I hadn't seen Mrs. Broflovski – I had always refused to call her Sheila, that was just too weird – since the Epic Stan&Kyle Drifting. In a town as small as ours, it was hard to go for even a month without seeing one of your neighbors. But, needless to say, I hadn't been to the Broflovski household in about four years.

"Kyle!" Mrs. Broflovski yelled, once I had followed her inside and taken off my coat and scarf. "Stanley is here to see you!"

Mere moments later, Kyle loped into the front hallway, a look on his face that was both curious and confused. He opened his mouth to say something, but once he saw my expression he quickly shut it again. He could tell something was wrong.

"Hey, dude," I greeted quietly, unable to meet that penetrating green gaze. "Is this – I mean – I wanted to…"

Kyle nodded, understanding my incoherent sentence somehow, and made a gesture that I assumed meant I should go with him.

I followed him up the stairs and into his room. And I swear, it was like I was home again.

Kyle's room was generally the same as it had been last time I had seen it. There were several new posters papering the same blue walls, but all the furniture was unchanged. The room was still neater than any teenager's ever should be – the bed was made, CDs and books carefully organized, no second carpet of clothes that my own bedroom possessed more often than not. The sense of déjà vu was eerie.

Kyle followed me into the room, shutting the door behind him and taking a seat in his desk chair. As I sat on the floor with my back leaning against his bed, I realized he hadn't said a single word to me yet. He seemed to be waiting for me to speak first.

"I talked to Wendy again," I began. I frowned at the rug, unable to look at him or continue speaking.

"Am I correct in assuming it didn't go well?" he asked after another minute of silence.

"Apparently she's been cheating on me," I replied, wincing as my words reached my own ears.

He grimaced as well. "Harsh, dude. How did you find out?"

"She told me," I answered, my voice cracking slightly. "It's just, I knew something like this was coming. So why does it hurt so much?"

"You loved her," he said simply. "It hurts to lose someone you love, no matter how far ahead you saw it coming."

"I guess," I mumbled. "It's just so hard to get rejected by the one person you thought would always be there."

"I know," he said, staring meaningfully at me. Too bad I wasn't thinking enough to be able to figure out what he meant by that.

I sighed loudly, leaning my head back and shutting my eyes. "I miss her," I whispered after a moment.

"What, exactly, do you miss?" Kyle murmured, causing me to jump slightly. Opening my eyes once again, I saw he ad moved to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of me. I hadn't even heard him get up.

"Everything," I said. "I miss everything. The way her hair smelled like peaches. The way she looked when she first woke up, her voice slow and quiet. The way she would let me sneak up on her and pretend to be scared. The way she loved it when I kissed her neck. How her pretty green eyes would sparkle when she was happy–"

"I thought Wendy had blue eyes," Kyle interrupted, looking puzzled.

"She does," I replied, also confused. "That's why we used to call ourselves the Wonder Twins, remember? Because of the black hair and the blue eyes. We made that up in, like, sixth grade."

"I know," he said, frowning. "But just now you said green."

"No I didn't…" I said slowly, trying to remember. I could've sworn I had said blue?

"I'm pretty sure you said green," he insisted, biting his lip but not looking as unsure as I felt.

Had I really said green? Why on earth would I have done that? The only person I knew who had green eyes – not a muddy hazel, like Craig's, but _green_ – was…

I stared up at Kyle in disbelief. No. The only thing on my mind right now was Wendy. I could hardly think of anything else if I tried. I had probably just accidentally said the wrong thing. Or maybe Kyle had heard me wrong. I was sure I had said blue.

Hadn't I?

Predictably, my thoughts drifted back to Wendy and her new mystery-guy. Usually I wasn't a spiteful person, but this… this hurt too much. I found myself wishing he would break her, like she had broken me. Again and again. But this time was different. I wouldn't take her back. Not for anything.

"Stan, you okay?" Kyle's voice snapped me back to reality. One of his hands rested gently on my knee. He looked concerned.

"Not really," I admitted, forcing a smile. "Can we talk about something else, please? I just – I really don't want to think about her anymore right now."

Kyle nodded sympathetically, starting a random conversation about who-knows-what. Even though I had pretty much no idea what was going on, he kept me talking, which kept me distracted, and I was thankful for that.

It seemed like a very short while later that Kyle's mom came up to inform us that dinner was ready. She invited me to stay, but I said it was late, and a school night, and my own mother would be looking for me. She looked disappointed as she assured me I was welcome back anytime before exiting. I got up to follow her.

"Stan?" came Kyle's voice. I turned back to him. "You'll be okay, yeah? I don't have to worry about you going Goth-ass Raven on me?"

I grinned, my first real smile today. "Nah, I'll be fine. It might take a little while, but I'll be okay. Don't worry about me."

He returned my smile. "Just because you say that doesn't mean I won't."

"Well, you worry too much as it is." There was a slight pause, before I added, "Hey, sorry to have barged in on you like this. I probably should've called or something, but I just couldn't think of what else to do–"

"It's fine, man." He gave a reassuring grin. "Seriously. It's not like I was doing anything… but either way, I'm glad you came."

I nodded. "Kyle?" I asked after another minute. He waited. I looked away, not knowing why I was feeling so shy all of a sudden. "…Thank you. For everything. It may not seem it, but you actually helped me a lot."

He blushed slightly, joining me in staring at the floor like it was the most interesting thing since sliced bread. "No problem," he mumbled happily.

"See you tomorrow?" I asked, my voice sounding ridiculously eager even to my own ears.

He chuckled softly. "Of course. See you tomorrow."

I grinned, making my way down the stairs and back to the front door. As I buttoned up my jacket, Kyle's younger brother Ike descended the stairs to go join his family for dinner. When he saw me standing there, his eyes narrowed into a glare so hostile it literally sent chills down my spine. I hurriedly wrapped my scarf around my neck and ducked out into the frigid Colorado autumn night.

Why is it that everyone in this town is so freaking dysfunctional? And why am I, sadly, no exception to this rule?

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A/N: Thanks for all the reviews on the previous chapters, keep it up! ^_^


	5. Listen I'm Fine Now

_An Unanticipated Symmetry  
Chapter Five -- Listen I'm Fine Now_

A/N: Due to limited computer access in the next I don't even know how long, I won't be able to update terribly easily. Also due to this it's going to take me longer to finish chapters because I have to handwrite them and then type them up. So sorry about the inconvenience.  
This chapter is dedicated to all those RavenStan fans like me out there =) And to people who don't like RavenStan, this is really the only bad chapter (other than maybe the beginning of the next one). But yeah.  
Enjoy and review please~

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It was only when I got home that night that I really started to feel sorry for myself. Kyle had managed to distract me, even cheer me up a bit. But now that I was alone, the weight of this began to crush me. I was _alone_. And being alone was lonely.

I tried my best not to mope. I had promised Kyle that I wouldn't revert back to my Raven-esque tendencies. But old habits die hard, especially seeing as becoming Raven was always sort of the way I coped with that kind of sadness.

Besides, I always get better. It just takes some time.

I will get better, won't I? I will be able to move past this feeling that my heart had been ripped out, stomped into a bloody, dripping pulp beneath Wendy's size 7 flats before being reinserted into the hollow cavity of my chest?

Right now, I didn't want to feel. I wished my heart had stayed in the dirt so that the ache didn't have to be a part of me. I wanted to be hollow, I wanted to be empty, I wanted to be numb.

I wanted to be numb.

Despite my promise to Kyle, I found myself throwing my window open, shutting off the light, sneaking into the cupboard in the kitchen to steal one of mom's candles. The way I felt right now – I had to write it out. There was no other cure. The words came easily, filling the pages with morbid poetry I already knew no one other than me would ever see. They joined the already large stack of papers on my desk.

Remembering something suddenly, I began to leaf through the pile until I came upon the page I desired. Staring at the words, I almost had to laugh at myself. Almost. What had I been thinking when I wrote that piece of crap? It was ridiculous.

I really did write better when I was depressed.

Unable to read my song-in-progress to Wendy any longer, I held the corner over the flame of the candle. I watched the flame spread with curiosity and unabashed pleasure until there were just a few flaming ashes on my desk. I blew at them until they went out.

Suddenly, I flopped over, laying my head on my arms. I was exhausted. Too exhausted to even get up and walk halfway across the room to my bed. The candle once again caught my interest, and I watched the flame perform a wild, angry dance that spun a tale of betrayal and lies.

Everything is a lie. I don't know what to believe anymore.

A gust of icy wind crept into my room, snuffing out the candle and caressing my bare arms with frozen fingers, raising goosebumps on my flesh. After shivering violently, my eyes gradually slid shut.

I dreamed I was encased in a block of ice, watching the rest of the world around me engulfed in flames. The smoke smelled like peaches.

It felt like no more than a few minutes later I was being forced awake by my alarm clock – in reality it had been about two hours. I sat up slowly, stiff from sleeping hunched over in my desk chair. Making my way to the bathroom, I saw a familiar face in the mirror. Not that of Stan Marsh; but rather, Raven, with his tired, shadowed eyes and hunched, defensive posture. Raven smiled at me, an awful, forced, empty thing, as if to say, _I'm back_.

When I got to school, immediately the clouds of whispers surrounded me, following me like a plague. Sidelong glances and full-frontal stares. I ignored them all. No one dared approach me, and for that I was thankful.

As soon as I got to my locker I was confronted by an angry Craig and sympathetic Clyde. Craig looked me up and down before speaking.

"Judging by your appearance, I would assume all the rumors about your breakup with Wendy are true?" he asked cynically, looking like he was trying hard not to scowl.

"Fuck you, Craig." Like he didn't dress about five times as emo as me every day of his life, what with his tight black pants and darkly colored shirts and whatnot. I wasn't even wearing black today, though I had been tempted to.

He flipped me off, an automatic reaction. "Dude, why didn't you tell us? We're worried. And obviously for good reason."

"I'm fine, okay?" I snapped. "Just leave me alone. I want to be alone."

"Stan, you need to talk about these things," Clyde said gently. "You can't just bottle it all up and release it in your Raven fury."

"First of all, I'm not Raven. Don't call me that." Even though this was a blatant lie, I wasn't going to concern them any further. They had their own lives to worry about. "Second, I'm _fine_. I talked to someone. Seriously."

"Who did you talk to?" Craig demanded, looking suspicious.

"Kyle," I mumbled quietly.

"What?"

"I talked to Kyle, okay? We're… kind of… friends again. I guess. But I talked to him about it yesterday."

Craig just looked utterly confused at this point, though maybe even a little hurt underneath. "When did that happen?" he wanted to know.

I shrugged. "It's been happening. I don't know. We sit next to each other in English and we just kind of… connected. Or something."

"Isn't he–" Clyde started, but the look on Craig's face shut him up almost instantly.

"What?" I asked, perplexed. Clyde glanced at Craig, then back to me, but kept his mouth firmly shut. Craig was glaring at Clyde with more murder in his eyes than I had ever seen, and for him, that was saying something. "Stop it, Craig. I want to hear what he was going to say about Kyle."

Craig and I locked glares, a silent face-off going on for a minute. Surprisingly, he gave in first, glancing over at Clyde again.

"Clyde can say whatever the hell he wants about whoever the hell he wants to," Craig growled. "Just don't expect me to stick around to hear it." And on that note, he stalked off down the hall in the direction of his own locker.

I turned expectantly to Clyde, who was fidgeting nervously as he stared after our friend's retreating form.

"Well…" he started awkwardly, glancing at me for just a second before watching after where Craig had disappeared again.

He really didn't want to tell me now that he knew whatever it was upset Craig. Clyde was way too obedient when it came to that guy.

"Just fucking tell me," I rolled my eyes. "If you want I'll say you chickened out anyways. Either way he'll get over it."

Clyde bit his lip, looking to me again. "You don't think he's too mad, right?"

I let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Dude, Craig always forgives you. Don't worry. Now tell me about _Kyle_, damn it!"

He was unconvinced, but I knew he was going to anyways. "It's just… it's not important, really. But there are a lot of rumors about Kyle being… well… gay." Why was he telling me this? I had heard all the stupid rumors. "And I guess… I don't know. Well, is he?"

"No," I answered without hesitation. Of course, I had absolutely no evidence, but I could _tell_.

But of course Clyde didn't believe it. "How do you know?"

"I just _do_, okay? But what does it matter either way?" It was kind of surprising how easily people could piss Raven off.

"It doesn't, not really," he answered quickly. "It's just, I'd be careful, Stan. Who knows how these rumors get started – but, what with all the talk about Kyle, there might be a couple about you too pretty soon, you know?"

"So you're saying because I hang out with Kyle, who is rumored to be gay, I will automatically assumed to be gay also?" I confirmed. He nodded slowly. "Okay, that had got to be the most idiotic thing I have _ever_ heard."

"I know," Clyde replied quickly. "But most of the people here are pretty idiotic. Besides, you and Kyle haven't even talked since middle school. Now all of a sudden you're best friends again. How do you think that's gonna look?"

I arched an eyebrow incredulously. "You really think I care what the fuck other people think about me? I know I'm not gay. I know _Kyle's_ not gay. That's all that matters."

"How do you know he's not, Stan?" Clyde asked once again. "I mean, think about it. He's never really had a girlfriend, or even shown an interest in girls beyond friendship. Maybe you don't want to hear it, but it's a definite possibility–"

"Stop," I snarled. "Just stop. Don't talk about Kyle like that. You don't even know him."

"Do you?" Clyde challenged. A stare-down reminiscent of mine and Craig's just minutes previous ensued, finally disrupted by the warning bell upon which time he turned without another word and left. Whether he was off to class or to hunt down Craig I was uncertain, but I felt I wouldn't be seeing much more of my two friends today.

At lunch I saw Wendy. A new kind of pain, sort of a dull ache, emerged in my chest. She glanced at me, frowned, and continued on her way. Like I didn't even exist.

In her world, I guess I didn't anymore. I was already a distant memory.

"Oh, geez," Kyle muttered as he took his seat next to me in English. "I had to see it to believe it. Dude, you promised you wouldn't go all Raven on me here. You seemed to be handling it so well."

"I'm not – I mean, I am," I protested. "I'm fine. Really."

It was a useless attempt. Kyle always had that uncanny ability to tell when I was lying. He raised a pierced eyebrow at me. "Give me a fucking break. Look at you. You're a mess."

"I am not. I'm just…"

"Raven," he finished for me. I looked away, not even trying to deny it this time. Guilty as charged. He sighed. "You see, I _do_ have good reason to worry. I hoped you wouldn't have to resort to this, but…"

I just shrugged, still unable to meet his accusatory gaze. Great. Now I felt all guilty, on top of everything else. Kyle shouldn't worry about me like that. I can take care of myself.

"Look, Stan – or should I refer to you strictly as Raven now? – why don't you come over after school again today?" He grinned. "Obviously I didn't do a good enough job cheering you up last night, and I think it's time to banish this bird once and for all."

* * *

A/N: This chapter seems long to me but it's really not o_o I think it's just cause a lot happens in it. I also think I'm having way too much fun writing EmoRavenStan xD but he'll be happy again soon... I'm not sure whether that calls for a happy face or a frowny face so I'll do this one instead: =/  
Please review and I'll be very happy even if Stan isn't =D


	6. Disguise Yourself To Hide The Scars

_An Unanticipated Symmetry  
Chapter Six -- Disguise Yourself To Hide The Scars_

A/N: This chapter is sooo ridiculously short. I'm very sorry for that =( But I needed to end it at this point because the next chapter is kind of a montage, and pretty long (thank god) so I couldn't/didn't want to tack the two together.  
On the plus side, you'll be glad to know that I now have my computer access back to normal, so (hopefully) updates should come sooner. During my boring, computer-less week, I worked on this fic a lot (I'm starting to get really into it, yay finally!) so I already have halfway through chapter 8 written xD but I have a lot of catching up to do with my typing so that's why updates might still be a bit delayed.  
Anyways, despite the shortness of this chapter, please review =)

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I had taken up residence in my familiar place on Kyle's bedroom floor, leaning against his bed as I watched him pace back and forth, back and forth. He was undoubtedly trying to think of something to say to me. It had already taken enough convincing to even get me to come here when all I wanted was to go home and sleep.

Eventually he came over and flopped down next to me, sitting so close that our knees were touching. He gave a long, slow sigh. I waited for him to say something, anything, because no fucking way was I going to be the one to break the silence.

"I don't like you, Raven," he announced abruptly, turning to stare at my eyes half-hidden by hair as dark as the bird by which I was infamously known. "You stole Stan away and I don't approve. You turned his pretty ocean eyes into rainstorms. I want my ocean back."

My face heated slightly as I tried to figure out what exactly he meant by this. Although it was a bit difficult to move past the fact that not only had he called my eyes pretty, he had said they were _his_.

I was being claimed. Somehow I didn't object to this as much as I might've if it had been by anyone other than Kyle.

"So here's what I think," he continued, seemingly oblivious to my struggle to keep my indifferent façade in place. "Raven only exists when something traumatic happens to you. So to turn you back into the Stan that I know and love, I have to get you happy again."

"I always go back to normal eventually. It just takes time," I informed him flatly.

"How do you know you won't get stuck like this, though?" he whispered, his eyes wide with fear. "I couldn't stand it. No. I have to help you. I'll do whatever it takes."

"Why do you care so much?" I asked suddenly. He just blinked at me like I was being incredibly stupid.

"You're my friend, dude. And maybe we haven't talked so much lately but I still care about you. I always have, and I probably always will."

I smiled slightly, my first real one all day, and shifted my gaze to my feet. Kyle grinned triumphantly.

"Aha! Progress!"

"Shut up," I replied, my smile growing just a bit as I playfully pushed him over. He laughed, sitting up again. I leaned my head on his shoulder, a subtle gesture of affection usually used between Craig and I, but it seemed to work in this situation as well.

It was quiet again, but a good kind of quiet. Peaceful, almost. I figured I should enjoy it while it lasted, because who knew when I would feel this kind of tranquility again. Just being around Kyle, even, seemed to be making me feel better.

He, of course, had to go and ruin the moment. "Maybe you should talk about it," he murmured after a while. "To, you know, get all those bad feelings out there. Not keep it bottled up."

I hesitated. "Talking about my feelings isn't really my thing, Ky," I replied slowly.

"I know, but… I think it would help. I won't judge you or anything, you know that. I won't even say anything, if you don't want. Just pretend I'm not here or something."

I was still unsure, but I nodded slowly, my head moving against his shoulder where it still rested. He sat perfectly still, hardly breathing, waiting for me to start.

"I guess…" I began slowly, "it's just hard for me to deal with sad things. Raven _is_ how I deal with sad things. Because I – Regular Stan – can't.

"Raven is a front, sort of. When bad things happen to me, they hurt too much. I can't take it. But it doesn't bother Raven. He's the indifferent, cold, empty Stan I wish I could be all the time.

"But I can't. And that's what sucks. Because if I went back to being normal Stan right now, with all this pain still so fresh, I honestly don't think I'd be able to take it. It would just take over and completely consume me until there was nothing left, not even Raven. That's why I won't let myself go back to that until I recover a little bit more. It's become such an automatic thing by now that I don't think I _can_ go back to normal, even if I tried."

I paused for a minute, trying to think of what else there was to be said. Finally I started back up again. "Don't you think it's weird how we always talk about Raven like he's some other person? I mean, I am Raven. Raven is me. I created him, but he's still technically Stan."

"He's not, though," Kyle replied quietly. "When you become Raven, it's literally like Invasion of the Body Snatchers or something. You're a completely different person who just so happens to look like my Stan."

There it was again, the _mine_ thing. "What do you mean?" I asked in a soft voice.

"It's like, it's not _you_. Your eyes are darker. Your smiles are all fake. You always look tired, and you get pissed off so easily. Understand?"

"Yeah," I whispered, "I do."

"Then you can see why I want Stan back," he replied, gently leaning his head against my own. "Just tell me what to do and I'll do it."

"Just… help me not think about her anymore," I begged, my voice strained. "I want to forget she ever existed."

"Are you sure that's the best–" he stopped himself abruptly. "Sorry. Of course. You would know. I'll see what I can–"

The door to Kyle's room swung open, revealing a glowering Ike that looked no less angry than the last time I had seen him. Kyle lightly shrugged the shoulder my head lay on, a silent warning for me to get off. I immediately obeyed, sitting up straight and trying to ignore Ike's piercing glare.

"What do you want, twerp?" Kyle demanded, his face nearly as red as the curls adorning his head.

"Mom says to tell you dinner's ready. _He_ can stay, if he wants," the younger boy added as an afterthought, nodding slightly in my direction. His voice was filled with venom.

"Stan has a name, you can call him by it," Kyle retorted. "Now get the fuck outta here."

Ike scornfully did as his big brother said, stalking out of the room and not bothering to shut the door again. Kyle sighed.

"Sorry about him."

"Why does he hate me?" I wanted to know.

"I don't think he hates you, exactly… he just doesn't like you very much."

"But why?"

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Who knows. I think he doesn't approve of us being friends again, or something. It's stupid."

"Yeah," I agreed slowly. It felt like there was something missing, something Kyle wasn't telling me. Like that wasn't Ike's only reason, and Kyle knew it.

"So are you going to stick around?" he asked hopefully. I bit my lip.

"Nah, I should probably get home. I didn't realize how late it was."

"Yeah," he replied, nodding and looking slightly defeated. I was about to get up when he interrupted my planned action. "Hey, Stan? Call me, okay? If you start feeling sad again. Even if it's, like, three in the fucking morning. I'll pick up."

I just nodded.

"No, seriously," he insisted. "I'm here for you, man. Whenever, wherever, however. Promise you'll call if you need me."

"I promise," I said, rolling my eyes and smiling slightly. "See you tomorrow, Ky."

"Bye, Stan," Kyle whispered in response.

As I left his house once again, I realized he had finally stopped calling me Raven.

* * *

A/N: Mhe, even though this chapter is so short I hope all the fluff made up for it o_o there wasn't that much but... I still enjoyed writing it and had to stop and "aw" every couple of paragraphs xD  
Stan's monologue killed me. I hope it makes sense -_-  
I'm actually just about to start writing the part where Ike (FINALLY) confronts Stan, so that should be interesting xD But... that's not till halfway through chapter 8 so you guys still have a bit to go ^^;  
If you review I'll be more motivated to type as fast as I possibly can (seeing as chap7 is already finished) =D


	7. Complications Go On, On, and On

_An Unanticipated Symmetry  
Chapter Seven -- Complications Go On, On, and On_

A/N: Quick shout-out to one of my regular reviewers on this project, Nekkun - Happy birthday, dearie =) Thank you (and everyone else, really) for all your support, I could never have made it this far into this fic without you guys~  
Judging from the planned layout for the rest of the story I'm expecting there to be about 12 chapters total, but it could vary, depending. Though I don't think it will. I'm really hoping to finish this by November because if I don't it'll have to go on hiatus for a month. And I don't think anyone, including me, would want that.  
So as promised, a bit of a longer chapter than the last two times, yayy. Enjoy and please review!

* * *

Me getting better was a long, slow process. Although I have to say, having Kyle around definitely helped. When I was with him, I always felt happier. Almost back to normal. Almost.

Fall came and went and football season was over before I knew it. Football had kept my spirits high too, making me distracted with something to do. I supposed I had to find a new distraction now. Kyle had come to all the games, and after the last one, which we won, he ran over and threw his arms around me and if he wasn't so skinny I would've been knocked straight to the ground.

That was the first time I had laughed, really laughed, in a very long time. My face hurt from smiling.

I felt a bit guilty that I had been neglecting my other friends for Kyle lately. The few times I had seen them, Craig was his usual sullen self, and Clyde appeared to be doing everything he could to please his friend.

One day I made my way out to my truck to find Craig waiting there, something that hadn't happened in a while. "Need a ride?" I asked. He just nodded. I could immediately tell that something was wrong.

We both entered the truck silently. He stared out the window as I started the engine.

"Where's Clyde?" I asked cautiously. He didn't answer. Wrong question.

"You haven't been around much lately," he noted after an awkward moment of silence had passed.

"I know, I'm sorry," I apologized. "It's just, Kyle and I–"

"You don't have to explain," he interrupted. "I just miss you is all."

I frowned. "Sorry, dude. We should hang out. Seriously. How about this weekend you me and Clyde–"

"No," he cut me off again, his voice so forceful it made me jump a little bit. I turned to look at him. He frowned, deflating slightly. "Clyde and I aren't exactly on speaking terms right now. If you had been around you would know that."

Ouch. That was harsh. Though I didn't blame him – Craig seemed pretty upset. "What happened? You two, like, break up or something?"

He didn't answer, shifting his gaze to the ground.

"Oh my god, you did, didn't you?" I murmured. His silence was enough for me.

"Of course we didn't, don't be a dumbass," he snapped. "We weren't dating, you know that. Clyde isn't gay."

"And you are?" He was silent again. I laughed weakly. "Jesus, Craig, I always knew you had a boner for that guy, but you could at least try to deny it."

"What's the point?" he grumbled. "None of it matters anymore anyways. I went and fucked it all up."

"I'm sure you could fix it if you just talked to him," I reasoned, trying to remain calm. "He may not be into you like that, but he's still totally devoted to you."

Craig sighed, a long, desperate thing. "Somehow I doubt that. He more or less told me he never wants to see my face again."

"That doesn't sound like Clyde," I replied slowly, realizing Craig had never even told me what actually happened. Obviously it had to have been bad enough to spark such a strong reaction.

"You don't get it, Stan. He was _pissed_. I don't think there's anything I can do to fix this."

"What did you even do, man?"

Craig apparently decided this was a good time to notice we had already been sitting in front of his house for several minutes. "Thanks for the ride, see you later," he said in a rush, and before I even knew it he had disappeared inside.

Maybe Clyde would prove a better source of information.

That night, I couldn't sleep. There were too many thoughts buzzing around my head.

Craig had actually admitted to me that he liked Clyde. That alone was just… wow. But I still couldn't envision Clyde just telling Craig to fuck off like that, no matter what had happened. I had a feeling that the two things were somehow connected, but how, I had no idea.

Either way, I was dying of curiosity trying to figure out what was going on.

I couldn't take it anymore. I had to talk to Kyle. It was two-thirty in the morning. He had told me previously that he tended to stay up late, but when exactly was _late_? As I dialed his number on my cell phone, I prayed he wouldn't be too mad at me for the wake-up call.

He answered just before it clicked over to voicemail, his voice slow and drugged with sleep. "Hullo?"

"Hey, sorry for waking you up," I apologized quickly, all of a sudden thinking that it had been a mistake to call him like this. "I just, I couldn't sleep, and…"

"Stan? Nah, don't worry about it, I said you could call anytime." There was a pause filled with soft background noises that I assumed was him stretching. "So what's up?"

"It's, well… it's about Craig actually," I replied, starting in on my story. I relayed the whole conversation from the ride home.

"Well you can't know for sure what happened," came Kyle's voice once I had finished. His voice was impossibly slow, drifting to a quietness at times where I couldn't even hear him, interrupted by soft, tired sighs. For just a moment I allowed myself to picture him lying in his bed, eyes shut and cell phone sandwiched between his ear and the pillow. The image brought a small smile to my lips and heat to my cheeks.

"I know. But I can at least guess. And ask Clyde, although I doubt he'll tell me."

"From what you've told me… do you think maybe Craig did something because of his feelings for Clyde? Made a move… or something?"

"That was sort of what I was thinking. But I don't know why Clyde would get _that_ upset. I was pretty sure he liked Craig, too."

Kyle murmured something I couldn't hear, followed by, "Shit, dude, I don't know. Maybe Clyde is confused. Or maybe you were wrong… it has been known to happen." I could almost feel him smiling, even in his half-asleep state.

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up. But even so, it's really out-of-character for Clyde to react like that."

"You never know, I guess." His words were jumbled together now, and I could tell I was about to lose him. "Don't worry, Rae. They're big boys. They'll work it out. Besides, you still have me, no matter what."

"Rae?" I questioned.

"Raven," Kyle amended, sounding more like an exhale than a word.

"Why are you calling me that?" I wondered, confused and a little hurt. Didn't he know that I was okay? "You hate Raven. Besides, I'm practically better. You said so yourself."

"I do hate Raven, don't worry," he mumbled. "And you're doing good, yeah. But… I dunno, really. Rae is kinda cute." He giggled softly.

Kyle called the name he hated cute? And he _giggled_? Okay, he was definitely overtired. I sighed. "Go back to sleep, Ky. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Don't let the bedbugs bite," he answered.

"Yeah, yeah. Good night."

"'Night, Stan, I love you," was the last thing he whispered before falling silent. I could hear his breathing deepen. He had fallen asleep without hanging up the phone.

Letting out another sigh, I snapped my own phone shut. Kyle acted _weird_ when he was hardly awake.

At last I drifted off myself, his final words echoing in my head.

A few weeks passed and I never found the chance to talk to Clyde. A few times I brought it up with Craig again, but he always changed the subject. Pretty soon I stopped asking.

It was sometime around winter break that the rumors started. I don't know how, or why, though I had my suspicions about the people sitting around us in English. All I know is one day I came into school and the familiar whispers and stares had returned. Something bad was going on.

In hindsight, I suppose I should have heeded Clyde's warning of months past. However, at that particular moment in time, I was too clueless to actually figure out what was going on.

I had been getting better, it's true. But the rumors just so happened to be what kicked off a brand new downward spiral for me.

It was slow at first. Inaudible whispers whenever I was with Kyle. Giggles from the girls. Disdainful, disgusted looks from the guys. I didn't even know why until one day when I was on my way to lunch, alone, with very few other people in the hall. My teacher had let us out late.

I passed a group of younger girls I didn't know, who immediately started whispering among themselves. I tried to ignore them, a feat proved even more difficult when two of them sauntered up to me.

"Is it true Wendy broke up with you because you were cheating on her with Kyle?" the braver of the two asked in a rush.

"E-excuse me?" I was sure I had misheard her. There was no way she had actually just asked me that.

"Well, is it?" the girl, who couldn't have been over 5'2'', demanded. Her friend appeared to be trying to shrink away as discretely as possible. The only thing that was stopping her from turning and high-tailing it out of here, I figured, was the fact that the first girl's arm was linked firmly around her own. She had clearly just been dragged along for moral support.

"No, it's not fucking true! _She's_ the one that was cheating on _me_!"

"Oh." She paused, looking me up and down, as if she was trying to decide whether I was telling the truth. "Well, you and Kyle are dating now, right?"

"No!" I couldn't believe this girl. So bold for such a tiny thing. How old was she again? A freshman or a sophomore for sure. Not in my grade, or even older than me. There was no way. "Where the hell do you get your information?"

She cocked an eyebrow at me. "Are you kidding? Everyone's been talking about you and Kyle for _days_. I'm surprised this is the first you've heard of it."

I just stared at her blankly for a moment. I didn't even know what to say to that. "I don't even _know_ you!" I cried suddenly. She just smirked and walked away, dragging her friend along behind.

Wow. I can't believe that just happened. I don't really know what would give people the idea that Kyle and I were freaking _dating_. I don't act any differently towards him than I do towards, say, Craig.

Do I?

When I finally got to lunch and found Kyle, I must've still had that look of utter disbelief on my face, because he immediately asked me what was up.

"Have you noticed the past couple days people have been looking at us weird and whispering a lot?" I asked.

"Yeah…" he answered slowly, chewing on his lip. "I didn't really think anything of it, though. Should I be concerned?"

"Some random girl I don't even know just walked up to me in the hall and asked me if _she_ broke up with me because I was cheating on her with you," I replied in a light tone. Kyle knew that _she_ usually meant Wendy. I still didn't like saying her name.

Kyle raised an eyebrow. "Really, now," was all he said.

"How the hell did this rumor even get started," I muttered, more to myself than anything."

"Who knows. Rumors are insane." He was frowning now, as if somehow saying that simple sentence had greatly upset him. We sat in silence for a moment, pondering this. "Although I have heard that there's a little bit of truth to every rumor," he added as an afterthought, the easy grin returned to his face.

Somehow I didn't want to know what he meant by that.

* * *

A/N: Short note - I based the part where Kyle is on the phone with Stan when he's just woken up by how I talk on the phone when I've been woken up by it. According to my friend I talk so quiet he almost can't hear me and I say really weird and stupid things, and I make a lot of odd sighing noises because I stretch a lot. So yeah.  
The Cryde drama thickens dun dun dahhh... ahahah. Don't worry, there will definitely be more stuff about that in the chapters to come, and it is somewhat relevant to the main plot, actually ;D  
Review so that I can stop being a slacker and actually finish writing (and then start typing) the long-awaited eighth chapter! ^_^


	8. The Look In Your Eyes Makes Me Crazy

_An Unanticipated Symmetry  
Chapter Eight -- The Look In Your Eyes Makes Me Crazy_

A/N: Sorry I tried to post this earlier today but Document Manager was down so it wouldn't let me T_T  
Uh yeah new episode last night? Please tell me I wasn't the only one who noticed that one of the beauty pageant girls was named Kylie and she had red curly hair xD  
Anyways, enjoy and please review ^_^

* * *

There were only three days left before Christmas break and I lost count of the number of people that came up to me in that time asking about my relationship with Kyle. But then school was finally out for that blessed extended week, over which time I hoped this whole thing would die down and we could all continue on with our lives.

Kyle and I were hanging out at my house one of these lazy days, and he announced he had gotten me a present. But we had to go back to his place and get it.

We took the truck because Kyle had walked over. He was one of those rare people that actually _liked_ being outside in sub-zero temperature. Not me. I thrive on warm air and blue skies, which is weird seeing as I've lived in Colorado my whole life.

I followed him up the stairs, but he stopped me outside the door to his room. "Close your eyes," he instructed.

"I don't want to," I protested. "Come on, just tell me what it is."

Kyle grinned. "No can do. Besides, what's life without an occasional surprise? Now just close your pretty blue eyes and come with me."

I grumbled inaudibly but did as he said, sliding my eyes shut and letting him take my hand and lead me into the room. There was a weird noise from somewhere in the room, but I couldn't figure out what it was. Kyle dropped my hand and started mumbling – seemingly to himself – about being quiet. Other weird noises ensued and by this point I was really wondering what the hell was going on.

"Okay, you can open," he announced finally. My eyes immediately landed on him and his wide grin, following his arm, which was held out to point to a cage containing a beautiful black bird with a brilliantly yellow beak. "Ta-dah! Baby Raven."

I was awestruck. "Holy crap, Ky. You got me… a bird?"

"Yep!" His smile faltered. "You do like it, don't you?"

"I love it, it's beautiful," I promised, unable to take my eyes off the caged creature staring back at me with a knowing gaze.

"Good," he exhaled, relieved. "I couldn't get you a real raven, of course… but I figured this was just as good. It's supposedly able to talk, too, but I don't know if it picked up any of the things I tried to teach it."

"Nevermore," said the bird, hopping onto one of the other perches in the cage.

"Oh, I guess it got that one, at least," he said, an expression of unabashed amazement and excitement on his face that matched my own pretty well. "So, shall we take this party back to your house?"

My house? Where my mom was? Who would probably throw a fit if I came sauntering in the house with a birdcage on one arm and Kyle on the other?

"Maybe I should go by myself first. Convince my mom that me getting another pet isn't a bad thing."

Kyle nodded. "Yeah. That makes sense. Text me when you get the okay and I'll bring the bird over."

I agreed and we said our farewells before I made my way back out to my truck.

Just as I was digging in my pocket for my keys, there was a shout of "Stan!" from the direction of the house. I turned, expecting to see Kyle, and was surprised instead to find Ike barreling towards me. He skidded to a stop, staring up at me. "I need to talk to you."

I examined him for a minute, trying to figure out what he wanted. He still looked angry, but a bit less so than before. "Sure, kid, what's up?" I asked at last.

His eyes narrowed but he spoke anyways. "Don't think I don't see what's going on with you and Kyle. I may be younger, but I'm not blind. Or an idiot."

"I never said you were. Besides, I thought it was obvious what was going on with us."

Ike arched an eyebrow at me. "And here I was thinking you two were trying to be sneaky. Anyways, what I wanted to tell you was… well, I don't approve of this whole thing you and Kyle have going on. But now that's he's already all wrapped up on you again, there's not much I can do to stop it. But I will warn you, and you better hope I never have to say it again." A chill like I had never heard had entered his voice. "You better be good to him, Stan."

"Of course," I said incredulously, shocked he even felt he had to tell me this.

He scowled. "Look, I know last time you didn't do it on purpose. But Kyle took it real hard when you up and dumped him like that. He was bitter and angry for a long time. He would hardly even talk to me, or anyone else for that matter. These past months are the happiest I've seen him in a really long time. If you fuck that up again, I swear – I was too young to do anything last time, but don't expect to get off so easy again."

Kyle was bitter and angry? Because of _me_? That didn't sound much like my Kyle.

I snorted, staring down at him. His challenging expression met me from somewhere around the height of my chest. "Hate to break it to you, but what could _you_ possibly do to _me_?"

"You'd be surprised," Ike grinned menacingly. "Anyways. Consider yourself warned. Be good to my big brother, or you'll have me to deal with." He whirled on his heel and stalked back into the house.

I felt like maybe I should be more scared than I was. But come on – the kid's not even five feet tall! Although I supposed it was kind of sweet he was being so protective of his brother.

I would never have guessed Kyle was in such a funk the time we weren't friends. He just always seemed so _happy_.

Could I really have that much of an affect on his life?

It was surprisingly easy to convince my mom to let me keep the bird. She knew how much I had wanted a new pet after Sparky, my childhood dog, had died a year or so back. Of course, it helped when I told her how Kyle had already bought the bird. She sighed, said, "Well, I guess so…" and I immediately texted Kyle. He appeared mere minutes later with both the bird and a duffel bag in tow. We stayed up all night trying to teach it new words, but all it ever said was "Nevermore."

"What are you going to name it?" Kyle asked as we lay sprawled across my floor.

"Raven, of course," I replied, grinning at him and rolling onto my back. His lips stretched into a smile of their own, upside-down in my world. I found my eyes fixated on his mouth. "Maybe I'll call it Rae for short," I teased.

His face turned so red I couldn't help but laugh. He hit me on the arm and told me to shut up. I just grinned. After a while he shifted so that he lay on his back as well, gently leaning his head against mine as we stared up at the ceiling.

He smelled nice. Like soap. And boy. Not like peaches at all.

"It's almost like Baby Raven is a replacement for the original Raven, you know?" Kyle mused, breaking the silence. "Like, now that he's here, you don't have to be Raven anymore. He can take all the bad feelings and make them… fly away."

"Does that mean I'm officially Stan again?" I turned slightly so I could see his face. He smiled softly, watching me out of the corner of his eyes.

"Yes. You're officially Stan again," he murmured. "My Stan is back."

Vacation was over much too quickly and we were back to dragging ourselves to school in three and a half feet of snow. Nothing exciting happened until the second week of torture. I finally managed to hunt down Clyde.

How he had managed to stay so elusive is beyond me. Maybe I just hadn't been looking hard enough. But now I finally found him, grinning at me like an idiot as he cheerily greeted me.

"Hey, Stan! I haven't seen you in a while. How was your break?"

"It was okay, kind of boring. I mostly just hung out with Kyle. Listen, Clyde–"

"Mine was great," he rushed, and I wondered if he had heard a single word I said. "Fantastic, actually. Stan, guess what? I have a girlfriend now!"

Whoa, wait, _what_? "Y-you have a… a _girlfriend_?" I sputtered. He nodded happily. "Who?"

"Bebe Stevens," he gushed. "You know her, right?"

Of course I knew her. She was Wendy's best friend. She was a nice girl, and despite her mass of blonde curls, deceivingly smart. "Yeah, I know her. She's nice. Pretty, too."

"I know," he said, eyes wide as if he was in awe of his ability to score such a girl.

"Good for you, man," I said half-heartedly. He gave me a look that let me know I wasn't fooling anyone with my unenthusiastic reply. "It's just… Are you sure this is the best thing right now? I mean, you and Craig–"

His happiness was gone in an instant, replaced by a steely glare. "Don't talk to me about him."

"Clyde, what happened between you two?"

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I'm surprised he didn't tell you already. Well, I'm not going to be the one to fill you in."

"Clyde, I'm sure if you just–"

"No, Stan. I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"But–"

"_No_." Obviously he had had enough of me as well, because he spun and stalked off down the hall.

Great. Now he was mad at me, too. I had the feeling I would never find out what had gone on between those two, and it was frustrating to no end.


	9. Holding Back What's On Our Minds

_An Unanticipated Symmetry  
Chapter Nine -- Holding Back What's On Our Minds_

A/N: A lot of people seemed to want some sort of tell-all scene with Kyle talking in his sleep... sorry to disappoint xD  
I'm actually really excited to see what you guys think of this chapter because starting with this chapter to, like, the end of the story is what the whole rest of it has been building up towards o_o I decided from here to the end long before I figured out all the in-between stuff.  
So please review! ^_^

* * *

It's kind of funny when you look at the people you used to be friends with and how much they've changed.

Kyle and I, even. Kyle used to complain about how he would never be any good at basketball because he was so short. But somewhere around sixth grade he had shot up, and was now nearly as tall as me. As for myself, I had filled out a lot, with my muscles from football and natural broad build.

Kenny, I think, changed the most out of any of us. He used to be – forgive me for this, but I really can't think of any other way to word it – a pretty boy. In a way he still is, I suppose. But growing up did things to him. He's got shadows around his empty eyes, and you can tell that he's always lost in all the horrible things he's witnessed. I guess countless trips to hell and back will do that to a person. It's no wonder his mind is half fucked-up on drugs all the time and he wanders around like a hollow shell, a ghost of the Kenny I once knew.

And then there's Cartman. If we've all changed so much, Eric Theodore Cartman has stayed the exact same as when we were in grade school.

Well I mean, he's undergone the obvious changes. He got taller. He thinned out a bit – though not enough where he can't still be referred to as "fat-ass." He's still, however, a sadistic, manipulative prick, who will do anything to get what he wants. If anything, he's gotten worse over the years. I've heard that he has an army of thugs at his beck and call, ready to do his bidding. Though I, of all people, should know by now how many lies make up a rumor. But there's a reason we stopped hanging out with that bastard.

Second semester finally began, and Kyle and I learned we had a new class together – study hall. It was during one of these that I had my first encounter with Eric Cartman in years.

We were "going to our lockers" at the time – a.k.a. leaning up against the outside of my locker so that we could talk above a whisper without the piercing glare of the study hall monitor snapping in our direction. Admittedly, we were probably standing closer together than we should've been, but I didn't even notice until _he_ came along.

"Well, well, well," sneered the all-too-familiar voice. "What do we have here. A gothfag and a Jewfag, undergoing their mating ritual? How _fascinating_."

"Get the fuck out of here, Cartman," Kyle growled, flipping our new arrival the bird. "What do you want with us?"

"I just wanted to see what my two oldest friends were up to," he replied, piggy brow eyes filled with fake innocence.

Kyle gritted his teeth, looking like it was taking all his self-control not to go over there and pound Cartman's face in.

"Yeah right, fat-ass," I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "You never do anything without a purpose. Now tell us what you want."

"Jesus, I was just going to ask if you wanted to take place in my plan," he grumbled. "Seeing as we used to be friends and all. But if you're going to be all pissy, you can forget it. I don't need to take shit from you _fags_. Why don't you go find a room and suck each other off or something?"

I felt a sharp sting in my chest at his scathing words. Kyle was reeling, too, his face a violent red as he ground his teeth together and clenched his hands into fists. I lightly touched him on the arm and he turned all that fury on me for a moment before his expression softened a bit.

"First of all," I began, feeling the need to stand up to Cartman – not for myself, really, but for Kyle, "Whatever the fuck your plan is, we want nothing to do with it. Second, Kyle and I aren't together. I'm not gay." I was left wondering why my voice faltered as I stated this. "And neither is–"

"I think you should go," Kyle interrupted, still glaring at Cartman, a frigid chill in his voice.

"Whatevah," Cartman said, scowling at us. "I don't need you, anyways. Screw you gahs, I'm going back to Chemistry." We watched him stalk back down the hall until he turned a corner and disappeared.

"Goddamn he makes me so _angry_!" Kyle slammed his fist into one of the lockers. "He should just mind his own fucking business."

"Ky, calm down, it's not that big a deal," I said, my eyes wide. I had never seen him so pissed.

Something in him seemed to shatter as he looked at me. All the fury in his eyes just dropped away. He slumped against the wall in defeat, shifting his gaze to the ground.

There was silence for a while, which I was scared to break, thinking he might snap at me, but eventually I got the courage to ask about what was bothering me. "Why did you stop me from defending you?" I murmured slowly.

He frowned, staring up at me. "Stan, I haven't been completely honest with you," he mumbled guiltily. My heart started pounding, and I found I was slightly terrified of what I assumed he was about to tell me. "I'm–"

"We should probably get back to study hall," I squeaked, interrupting. I didn't want to hear that. I wasn't ready to hear that. So I turned around and walked as fast as I could away from him without actually running.

"Stan!" he called after me, before reluctantly following.

I didn't see much of Kyle for the rest of the day. It was when he was nowhere to be found even during lunch that I really began to worry. So I decided to go looking for him.

I finally found him in a hallway somewhat near our English room. He was sitting slouched against the wall, his arms on his knees and his head hidden in them. I hesitated before making the decision to walk up to him, but an extremely familiar voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Boy troubles got you down, eh Broflovski?" Craig asked, moving to stand in front of Kyle with a sympathetic smile. I ducked into the alcove where the door of a classroom was, but not before I saw Kyle nod dejectedly. "You and me both, kid," Craig continued with a sigh, followed by what sounded like him sinking down to sit next to Kyle.

"Stan told me about you and Clyde," Kyle replied. "That sucks, man. What did you do?"

Craig groaned. "I just – I'm so stupid. I hardly even know how it happened… we were just hanging out like usual and I – I kissed him. So of course he freaks the fuck out and tells me to get away from him. To stay away from him."

There was a long minute of silence then. I was tempted to peek around the corner of my hiding spot but I didn't want them to see me and so I stayed firmly put.

"I almost told Stan today," came Kyle's quiet voice at last. "Not that I like him, but I figured he at least deserves to know that I'm…"

_Gay_, my mind automatically finished for him. Of course by now I had already figured that much out. But then the rest of what he had said caught up to me. He – Kyle – I – he _likes_ me?

"I thought he already knew," Craig replied, sounding puzzled. "He's been so wrapped up on you lately, I just figured you two were…"

"Yeah, you and everyone else. Except him. Every time someone brings it up, he makes this face and denies it as much as possible. It just hurts and I want to scream at him, 'Is the idea of us together really so horrible that you can't even consider it?'" He let out a frustrated sigh.

That wasn't true, though. It wasn't that I found it so horrible. I just… I don't know. I couldn't really see it actually _happening_. Like, me being with another guy and all. And admittedly I suppose it did freak me out a little.

Meanwhile, while I had been contemplating this, Craig and Kyle's topic of conversation had shifted.

"It's kind of weird how people can just _tell_ sometimes, you know?" Craig was saying. "I'm surprised more people around here haven't figured out about me. I feel like sometimes the only things protecting me are football and my friendship with Stan – like being friends with the school's star athlete automatically makes me straight. But you… And then this summer I was in Florida visiting my grandma and there were these guys… they just _knew_, Kyle. And they _hated_ me for it."

"Yeah," Kyle replied softly. "When I was out in California, it was weird. It was like, all the girls didn't even bother with me. They could tell I was off-limits. But the guys," he gave a short laugh, "Well, that's a different story."

"Have you ever done anything?" Craig whispered. "Like, with a guy?"

"Yeah," Kyle admitted, and that alone was enough of a shock. "I didn't even really know him. We were both kind of drunk. We didn't actually, like… but yeah."

"In California?"

"It's different there," Kyle answered simply. "What about you? Have you ever–?"

"No," Craig said quietly. "Other than kissing Clyde, obviously. But that's it."

There was silence again, during which I found it a good time to think about everything I had heard. Kyle had messed around with a guy before. Kyle wanted to mess around with _me_. Craig was hated because of the way he was. Craig had lied to me about why he came home from Florida with a black eye.

My two best friends were both into guys. And I had absolutely no idea how I felt about that.

"One time, Stan and Clyde were talking about you," Craig said at last. "It was before I had fucked things up with Clyde. I think that Clyde was trying to tell Stan about you… but I didn't want to stick around to hear that. Because I guess I didn't want to hear them talking about you that way when it's so similar to the way I am. Clyde could tell I was pissed, he spent days trying to get back into my good graces… but still, I kind of wonder what was said, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess," Kyle replied. "Stan seems like he doesn't want to believe it about me though. So if that is what Clyde told him, I doubt he listened."

"I think you should tell him anyways. I think he'd be cool with it. He was fine when I told him about me."

"I don't know, he kind of ran away when I tried earlier." Kyle's voice was unsure.

"He probably just needs time to get used to the idea. He's got all that emotional instability… he needs to take change slow."

It was hard for me to be mad at Craig for calling me emotionally unstable when I realized how close to the truth his words were.

"Yeah. Yeah, maybe I will. I should go find him. I've been hiding from him pretty much all day, but… he deserves to know."

I silently cursed, praying he would decide to go the other direction to look for me, otherwise he may be finding me much sooner than he thought.

"Hey, Kyle?" came Craig's voice. "Take care of him, okay? After Wendy… he's been kind of a mess. You helped him out a lot. But… take care of yourself, too. Be careful. Don't make the same mistake I did." There was a pause before he added, "It's better to have him as a friend and nothing more than to finally taste his lips and lose him forever all at once."

"Thanks, Craig." I could hear the smile in Kyle's voice. "For what it's worth, I'm really sorry about what happened between you and Clyde. That must suck so hard. I hope everything works out for you."

"Thanks, man. It was nice being able to talk about it. Through this whole thing I felt like there was no one I could talk to who would understand. It's a good feeling, remembering that I'm not alone. That I'm not the only one going through this kind of shit."

"No problem," Kyle replied sweetly. "It's kind of funny, though, how we're both so close to Stan and we're both going through such similar things, but I've hardly ever talked to you before."

"Maybe we should change that." Another pause. "Let me know how it goes with Stan, okay?"

"Sure. I really should go try and find him now. Lunch is almost over."

And thus I was left frozen in an alcove thanking whatever deity would listen for making Kyle walk in the opposite direction and Craig, and few minutes later, to wander after him.

All I knew was that I had a _lot_ of thinking to do.

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A/N: Next chapter might not come for a little while, because usually I wait until I've at least started the next chapter before I post the previous one, but I'll be honest, I haven't even touched chapter 10 yet. So I'll try and get it done ASAP - It's gonna be a good one, I know that at least =D And I do believe there will be some actual Style in it... heeheehee.  
Please review~


	10. I Forget That I'm A Mess When You're

_An Unanticipated Symmetry  
Chapter Ten -- I Forget That I'm A Mess When You're Around_

A/N: I thought this chapter would give me issues, but I actually had a LOT of fun writing it xD Well, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Please review!

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I guess Kyle decided not to act on Craig's advice right away because it wasn't until a week or so later that he said anything more to me on the subject. We were hanging at his house after school, per usual, when he announced that he had something to tell me.

"But I want you to promise you won't freak out, okay?" He was sitting up on the kitchen counter with hopeful eyes.

"Why would I freak out?" I replied, despite the fact that I already knew what he planned to tell me. I had thought it over and decided that I was fine with the fact that Kyle was gay. I mean, why wouldn't I be? He was still the same person, still my best friend. Craig was right, I just needed some time to get used to the idea.

I was even sort of okay with the whole issue of him liking me.

"I don't know, I just kind of have a feeling that you will." Kyle bit his lip, looking at the ground. I waited. After another few minutes, he announced reluctantly, "I like boys."

Now that he had actually told me I didn't really know how to react. He glanced up at me, looking worried, so I gave a reassuring smile. "It's cool, dude," I said. "Really."

He grinned as well. "Thanks, Stan. It means a lot to me… that you can understand. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I guess I didn't know how you would take it."

"Kyle, you're my best friend. Of course it doesn't matter," I promised softly, taking a subconscious step towards him.

"And that's why you're my favorite," he replied, reaching out and draping his arms over my shoulders. I lost my balance slightly and began to fall forward, sticking out my hand to catch myself. Instead of coming into contact with the cool tile of the counter like I expected, they landed on something warm and denim. I glanced down to find my hand resting on Kyle's thigh.

My face immediately heated up, and I was sure that it was bright red by now. To make matters worse, it didn't even occur to me to move my hand, as all that I could think about was our close proximity to each other and the fact that his lips were still twisted into the most beautiful smile I had ever seen.

"I – uh – I–" I stammered, not even sure what I was attempting to say as my eyes kept flicking back and forth from his eyes to his lips.

Before I even knew what was happening our mouths were brushing together in a feather-light whisper of a kiss. My stomach flipped and my heart felt like it was trying to leap out of my chest through my throat.

Then I realized what was going on and pulled away, snatching my hand back like I had been burned. Kyle opened his eyes, which were initially glazed over with want but soon widened in horror at what he had just done.

It had to have been him. There was no way that _I_ initiated that kiss.

"I have to go," I mumbled in a rush, backing away from him before turning and practically running out of the house, pausing only to grab my coat from the hall closet.

I was surprised that he didn't try to stop me.

Somehow I managed to keep my mind completely empty until I made it all the way home, up the stairs, and into my room with the door locked behind me. It was then that all the thoughts barraged me at once.

Hadn't Craig warned him not to do that? Hadn't Kyle heard me when I had said that I wasn't gay? Hadn't he realized that I just want to be friends? Hadn't he learned last time not to push change on me too fast? Hadn't he figured out how fucked up my emotions make me?

Why in _hell_ had his lips felt so good on mine?

Too many questions. Too many thoughts. Oh god. I can't handle this. I need… I need Raven.

As if on cue, the bird chirped from his cage by the window. I glared at him with hate in my eyes. I can't be Raven. He took Raven away from me.

_Kyle_ took Raven away from me.

Kyle.

Oh god.

I sank to the ground, my back still pressed against the door, seeing as until now I'd been paralyzed from the moment I entered the room. It was all too confusing, and my brain hurt, and my insides hurt. My stomach was churning. There were too many feelings.

My vision went blurry, and I felt a slight wetness on my cheek. I reached up, vaguely noticing how badly my hand was shaking, and felt the area under my eyes.

Goddamn, I was actually _crying_. I don't cry.

Raven doesn't cry.

But I'm not Raven. I'm Stan. And Stan doesn't have the same kind of emotional nothingness that Raven has. Stan doesn't know how to not feel. Stan hurts inside.

Being Stan sucks.

Kyle likes me. Kyle _kissed_ me. Craig told him not to do that. But he did it anyways. I don't want to pull a Clyde and never talk to Kyle again. I don't know what I would do without Kyle.

_Kyle took it real hard when you up and dumped him like that. He was bitter and angry. These past months are the happiest I've seen him in a really long time._

Goddamn you Ike get the fuck out of my head. I don't need that shit added on to everything else right now.

I guess now I know why Kyle was so upset after we stopped being friends last time. Jesus, I didn't even think about that before.

How long has he liked me, anyways?

Do I like Kyle?

Yes.

Do I _like_ Kyle?

No. I don't. I _can't_. There's no fucking way.

It's not allowed.

Too many fucking thoughts. Too many fucking questions. I don't want this. I don't need this. I can't take this. I just want to sleep.

I want to sleep, and sleep, and sleep, and never have to wake up and deal with all my problems.

The next morning my alarm woke me up and I immediately turned it off again, pulling the blankets up over my head. My mom came in twenty minutes later to see why I wasn't getting ready for school and I told her I didn't feel well, I feel nauseous, please, please don't make me go to school. She frowned, felt my forehead, and didn't make me get up.

I stayed in bed hiding under my blankets all day.

The next day I tried it again. She put her hands on her hips and flat out refused.

"Look, Stanley, I don't know what's wrong with you," she told me, using her mom-voice. "Everyone deserves a mental health day once in a while, so I let you stay home yesterday. But you can't just ignore all your problems by staying in bed all day. So you are going to get up, get dressed, and drag your butt off to school." I didn't move. "_Now_, mister."

I sat up finally, giving her the most hateful look I could muster. It didn't phase her in the least.

Hardly a half-hour later, I was sitting in first period, dreading having to see any of my friends today. I looked like shit, that was undeniable. But not the kind of shit I looked like as Raven. I was a flat-out mess. My face was pale, my eyes were sunken into their sockets, I was as jittery as if I had just drank twenty cups of coffee. I was being paranoid – about what, I have no idea, but every sound was making me jump.

I felt like I was going to throw up. And I hadn't even seen Kyle yet. Why couldn't mom have just let me stay home again today?

"Hey, Stan," Craig said as he slid into his seat beside me in Chemistry. I jumped about a mile into the air. He gave me a weird look. "You okay? You're not looking so good."

"I'm fine," I mumbled, shifting my gaze to the ground. "I just… I'm fine."

"Okay," he replied, sounding uncertain, but he didn't bother me about it anymore.

Oh shit.

_Did Kyle tell him?_

Craig had asked Kyle to let him know what happened with me. Would Kyle have told him about us, and the kiss, and… fuck.

I really didn't want people to find out about that.

"Have you seen Clyde around at all?" Craig asked after a while of me silently freaking out. "I need to talk to him."

I slowly shook my head no, my eyes wide as I ran all the worst-case scenarios through my head.

Being regular Stan when I was going through an emotional crisis like this was rather detrimental to my mental health.

"Are you sure that you're okay, Stan?" Craig sounded really worried now. I was too paralyzed by my own fears to respond. He leaned in closer and dropped his voice to make sure he wasn't overheard. "Kyle told me what happened."

Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK.

"He's pretty upset about the whole thing, too," he continued, eyebrows knitting together. "Are you mad at him? I think you should talk to him. I really don't know how easily he'd take it if you just stopped being friends with him."

I opened my mouth but no sound would come out. "I… don't know," I finally managed, my voice strained.

"Look, it's not his fault, okay? Sometimes things just… _happen_. And it's better to just pretend that they didn't and move on with your lives. But I really think that you should try and keep your friendship with him."

"I don't fucking _know_, okay, Craig?" I roared, finally turning to face him, my eyes smoldering with sudden anger. Why couldn't he just leave me the hell alone?

Well, if people weren't looking at us before, they definitely were now.

"I don't want to not be friends with Kyle," I continued in a quieter voice. "But I don't know how easy it's gonna be for me to be around him, after…"

"Okay. I get it," Craig said simply. "I won't make you talk about it anymore. Just… think about it." He turned away from me and I knew that the conversation was over.

Kyle stared at me with hopeful eyes the second I walked into English. "Hey, Stan," he said cautiously, surveying me.

I glanced at him, but I couldn't keep my gaze there for long before my eyes shifted to his lips and I remembered the feeling of them pressed against my own and my face began to burn. "Hey," I mumbled in reply, quickly averting my eyes as I sat.

He frowned, and didn't try to talk to me for the rest of the period. I was grateful for this.

The day had dragged on agonizingly slowly and I was overwhelmingly glad when it was finally over. But of course I had to be delayed even further because I have the shittiest luck ever.

This time, however, it was Clyde causing me trouble. I discovered him on my way out to my car, looking significantly less cheery than the last time I had talked to him.

"Hey, Stan," he sighed, frowning.

Well I couldn't exactly leave him like that. The dude was fucking miserable. I had to at least find out why.

"What's wrong with you?" I replied, trying to make my question as sincere as possible and unfortunately failing horrendously.

"I broke up with Bebe," he mumbled, averting his eyes.

Well that was certainly surprised. He had seemed so happy to be going out with her.

"_You_ broke up with _her_? How come?"

"It just… it didn't feel right. I don't think that I was going out with her for the right reasons. It's like, every time I kissed her, there just wasn't that _feeling_, you know? That feeling you're supposed to get when you kiss someone you like."

"I see," I said slowly. "Have you ever gotten that _feeling_ with anybody else?"

He flushed and shifted his gaze to the ground. I had to try very hard to keep my jaw from just dropping open.

"W-with Craig?"

Clyde's eyes immediately snapped back up to my face, bugging out in horror. "He _told_ you about that?" he squeaked.

"No, of course not," I answered quickly.

"Then how did you know?"

"I… it doesn't matter, okay?" If Clyde was upset about the prospect of me knowing, I couldn't imagine how much he'd freak if he knew Craig had told Kyle, of all people. "But did you? Feel something? …With Craig?"

"No," Clyde said a little too forcefully. "I – I can't have."

"Look, man," I started, even though I had pretty much no idea what I was about to say next. Words just kind of started spilling out and I had absolutely no clue where they were coming from. "I know you didn't want to feel anything. But just because you didn't want to doesn't mean that there was nothing there. You know? Maybe you just need to, like, push the fact that it was _Craig_ you were kissing out of your mind and just think of the pure feeling itself. And then you can realize that maybe you did feel something, and maybe it was okay that you felt something. And then you can try and deal with everything else once you can finally admit that to yourself."

Clyde's defensive shell had been melting away as I talked, and he now stood before me raw, empty, real. I could see the pain and the longing in his eyes like they were being drawn out for me by a master artist, the confusion storming his head.

"I think you're right," he admitted quietly once I was done. "I… I was so scared by the fact that there were so many fucking sparks when he kissed me that I ran. I told him to stay away because I didn't want to feel something that strong. Something that powerful. And I knew I only asked Bebe out because I was trying to reassure myself that it wasn't just him, that it could happen with someone else. And obviously that failed miserably."

I nodded, satisfied, my good deed done for the day, so that now I could go back to being the self-pitying little fucker I had been prior to my little nudging of Clyde in the right direction of his epiphany.

"But how did you know all that?" he asked with unabashed, amazed disbelief. "Even _I_ didn't know all that. And it's what I'm going through. It's almost like you went through exactly the same thing… and you know exactly how I feel."

"W-what?" I sputtered, letting out a startled laugh. "Psh. Don't be ridiculous."

He gave me a look that said I wasn't fooling anyone, least of all him. I sighed, my turn to drop my eyes to the ground.

"Kyle?" he asked.

I nodded dejectedly.

"Happens to the best of us," he continued in a sympathetic voice. "Maybe you should act on your own advice. I'm going to go talk to Craig. I suggest you hunt down Kyle and do the same."

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A/N: Ahahaha. Stan's whole mental breakdown... I think I enjoyed writing that part a little bit too much xD  
Anyways, I hope that this chapter answered some of your questions. This fic is wrapping up quite nicely, even though it may not seem like it because Stan is an idiot... but I'm pretty much exactly at the point I wanted to be for the ending when I started writing this, and that's a good sign, because it (hopefully) means that the last two chapters will be smooth sailing.  
Reviews would be lovely, please and thank you =)


	11. It Was A Big Mistake To Let Me Memorize

_An Unanticipated Symmetry  
Chapter 11 -- It Was A Big Mistake To Let Me Memorize Your Face_

A/N: Aah sorry it took me so long to update this =( I was trying to make progress on the last chapter before I posted this one. I had to write it (chapter 12) twice because the first time was horrible. But now I'm done with it for real, which means I won't be working on this story anymore, other than to type it up... that's kind of sad.  
So yeah. Enjoy chapter 11, and please review!

* * *

I, Stan Marsh, am a pussy. I will be the first to admit it. I'm a fucking pussy who doesn't even have the balls to talk to his own best friend.

I dialed Kyle's number so many times. I even pressed the call button once or twice, only to freak and hang up the second it started ringing.

Needless to say English class has become one of the most uncomfortable experiences of my life.

He doesn't talk to me, either. But not because he doesn't want to, I don't think. It seems like he's waiting for me to say the first word.

Fat chance of that happening anytime soon, what with the whole problem of me becoming Stan the living jell-o mold every time I so much as look at him.

Quite obviously I'm still in the midst of mental breakdown crisis mode.

Craig and Clyde won't leave me alone – now that they've pretty much worked out their problems, they have more time to worry about mine. They see how miserable I've become, how lost in my own skin, and they're both convinced that the only way to fix everything is to make some sort of amends with Kyle.

"Stan, I worry about you. You know that, right?" Of course Craig fucking worries about me. If he didn't worry about me so much I'd just get to be left alone, like I _wanted_. "It just seems like one of these days you're going to lock yourself in your closet and refuse to come out."

"No, Tom Cruise was already in there, it's contaminated now."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. You get my point. Just _please_ promise you'll talk to him."

"It's not that simple. You know I tried. I know I've been trying. I just – I _can't_."

"You can't, or you won't?" he challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"Does it matter? The point is me talking to him doesn't seem very possible in my near future."

"I'll go with you if you want. Moral support, you know?"

I made a face. "The conversation is bound to be awkward enough without you there, thanks."

He frowned, clearly trying to think of what else he could do to help. "I could–"

"Whatever it is, _no_. Just – I need to do this myself, okay? I'll… I'll try again today. I promise."

Craig could tell my words were empty. I had no plans on following through on my promise. But he let it slide, and finally stopped talking to allow me a few blissful moments of silence to catch my breath – air had been much harder to come by lately.

After school I was hiding in my room per usual, though there was really no point seeing as both my parents were still at work. So obviously it was surprising to hear the doorbell ring.

I ran downstairs to the door, glancing out the window as I went past it. The green Mazda parked in the street in front of our house didn't even register until I already had the door open and saw him standing sheepishly on the front steps.

"Hey," Kyle murmured, glancing up at me with a small nervous smile. "Can I come in?"

I wordlessly moved to the side to let him past me, feeling vaguely like I was going to vomit. Why was he here? Why _now_? Neither of us had said more than a few words to each other since… well.

"Look, Stan," he started, getting straight to the point. "Obviously things have been awkward. But I don't want this whole thing to ruin our friendship. I knew you'd be pretty messed up, so I waited to see if maybe you'd come to me when you were ready, but I'm starting to get the feeling that's never going to happen."

"I was going to talk to you," I interjected, and, okay, even I'll admit that was entirely unconvincing. He just raised his pierced eyebrow at me before continuing.

"I'll admit," he sighed, "I've been kind of messed up without you, too. I know that you don't think it, Stan, but you're strong. Stronger than me. You don't need me. But… I need you."

"I never said that I didn't need you," I replied, voice quiet but insistent as I took a faltering step towards him.

His mouth twisted into some semblance of a smile, cheeks coloring just a bit. "Ike's really pissed at you, by the way."

I blinked at the sudden shift in conversation. "I figured he would be."

Kyle scoffed. "You have no idea. I literally had to lock him in my car to stop him from showing up at your door with the butcher knife."

My eyes widened slightly at this mental image, though I was still trying to figure out what this had to do with anything.

"That was pretty off-topic, I know," he laughed. "I guess… I guess I'm just nervous. And stalling before I have to address the real issue here."

"Which would be…?"

"Right. Well." He closed his eyes for a second, suddenly serious. "I know judging by what I told you before we… and the fact that you seemed pretty confused afterwards, am I correct in assuming that you think that I kissed you?"

I just nodded dumbly. Was he implying something other than this had happened?

"Okay. That's what I thought. I'm only going to say this once, so listen close. The only reason I kissed you is because _you leaned too_."

"W-what?" I choked out. No way. There was no way.

"You heard me," he challenged. "Look. I'm not saying I didn't want to kiss you – if you thought that you'd have to be way more oblivious than I thought. But here's how it happened. I leaned. I realized what I was doing and I _stopped_ myself. And then you closed the space that was remaining."

"No," I refused, unsure of what emotion exactly my expression was portraying right now. "I didn't. I couldn't have."

"Stan, I almost wish you hadn't. But you _did_. And… I don't know. Do you think maybe your subconscious, or whatever part of your brain was controlling you at the time, was trying to tell you–"

"You think I _like_ you?" I squeaked, horrified. How could he even say that?

"I don't know, _do_ you?" he yelled, eyes wild. "Because it sort of seems like you do, but then when you get so _disgusted_ by the mere idea of us being together, I'm not so sure!"

"I'm not disgusted by it," I muttered defensively, my voice practically inaudible in contrast with his. "I just… it scares me a little bit."

The anger in his eyes immediately dropped away, replaced by something softer, more caring. "Stan…" he murmured, taking a small step towards me.

"But I don't know if I – I don't _think_ that I… like you. Like that." My words were all jumbled together and hardly made sense to my own ears.

"I don't want to lose you," he insisted suddenly. "I've fought too hard to get you back just as a friend. If that's all you're able to give me… I can be okay with that. But I need to _know_, Stan."

"I just told you I _don't_ know, Kyle," I retorted.

"So let's figure it out."

"How?"

Kyle tapped his lower lip with one of his pointer fingers, examining my face thoughtfully. "I propose an experiment," he announced at last.

I did not like the sounds of that. "What kind of experiment?" I wondered cautiously.

"Okay. Here's how it'll work. I'm going to kiss you again." Nope, definitely not liking the sounds of that. "Afterwards, if you can look me in the eye and _honestly_ tell me that you didn't feel _anything_ towards me, I will never make you talk about this again. We can go on as friends and pretend it never happened. Otherwise… well, we'll deal with that if we come to it."

If my face hadn't shown how freaked out I was before, it certainly was now. Kyle obviously picked up on this, because he smiled reassuringly.

"It'll be okay, Stan. I promise."

I found myself nodding despite the loud protests my brain was screaming. _Let_ my best friends kiss me? Okay. I had officially gone insane. Time to lock me up in the loony bin.

Kyle seemed to think otherwise. He stepped closer so that our chests were lightly pressed together, lifting one of his hands to gently stroke one of my cheeks.

"Just relax, okay?" he murmured, his voice very close to the ear on the opposite side of my head than his hand was on. His lips gently pressed to my jawbone. "God, you're pretty."

I shuddered, really freaking out now, heart pounding with anxious anticipation.

"Relax," he repeated, a smile in his voice. "Close your eyes. Don't think about it."

Kyle's lips finally found mine and my eyes had no choice but to slide closed as he kissed me, really kissed me, causing my mind to go completely blank.

My arms wrapped around him, drawing him closer to me, as close as possible. I wanted to destroy all the space between us, our bodies melding together until you couldn't tell where Stan ended and Kyle began. I wanted to swallow him whole and finally call him mine. Keep him with me forever and ever.

And then…

And then it was over, just as quickly as it had begun. He slowly pulled back until we once again became separate entities, Just Kyle and Just Stan, instead of some mutant mix between the two. I was left with nothing but the sweet, lingering taste of his mouth in mine.

I opened my eyes at last to be met with his electric green gaze, eyes wide and hopeful as if he already knew exactly what I was going to say.

I studied Kyle, the features I had long ago memorized – the long, unruly red curls; the sharp, angular cheekbones; the lips too full to belong on a boy but somehow working on him; the almost-invisible dusting of freckles across his nose and trailing down his neck to disappear beneath the hem of his shirt.

Finally, my eyes travelled back to his, blue on green, and I realized I knew what my answer was.

* * *

A/N: Aah a cliffhanger? D: ...I'm such a bitch, haha. I like torturing you guys.  
So what do you think Stan's gonna say? =3  
As previously stated I already finished writing the last chapter... I have to type it up still though. Probably do that later this week.  
If you want it sooner you should review~


	12. What Will It Take To Make You Admit That

_An Unanticipated Symmetry  
Chapter Twelve -- What Will It Take To Make You Admit That You Were Wrong?_

A/N: I don't own Charles Dickens (lol), Our Mutual Friend, or any passages from said book that I may or may not have quoted.  
On that note, please enjoy the final chapter of _An Unanticipated Symmetry_. =)

* * *

I took a deep breath, dropping my arms from around him. The hopefulness in his eyes faded a little, replaced with a slight panic, but still he waited for my answer.

"No," I whispered.

That was all it took, that one little word, to completely shatter the little composure he had been holding onto. His face changed to that of pure heartbroken horror. He took a backwards step away from me, then another. "N-nothing?" he choked out, as if I would laugh and say _Just kidding, I lied, I love you, I want to be with you_.

"I'm sorry, Kyle," was all I said.

He turned his head, face angled so all I could see was a mass of curls and a mouth sucking in deep, steadying breaths. We were both quiet for a minute as he pulled himself together, and when he finally turned back to me, I didn't fail to notice the fact that his eyes seemed to shimmer, like there were tears just on the surface waiting for him to blink so they could spill over.

My stomach sank at the sight.

"It's not your fault, Stan," Kyle promised, his voice surprisingly even. He gave a feeble little smile. "It's my own damn fault. Getting my hopes up even though I knew you would say no."

"Kyle–" I murmured, but he cut me off.

"No, I get it, you don't have to say anything." He took one more deep breath. "I guess it was nice, just once, to know what it was like… But I promised if you said no I would never make you talk about this again, and a promise is a promise."

I just nodded dumbly, at a loss for what else to say to him. I wanted to fix things, to make the hurt that was so clearly evident in him go away, but I knew there was only one way to do that. And it just so happened to be the very thing I had just said no to.

"Stan, I love you," he continued. "I'm sure you know that by now. All I want is for you to be happy. And if I'm not the one who can do that for you, well… I'll just have to get used to that. Look, I should probably get going." I nodded again, sure that he could hear the way my heart was pounding right now. He waited another second before adding, "We're still friends, right?"

"Super best friends," I corrected automatically, my lips twitching into some semblance of a smile.

"Of course." He returned my tiny, awkward, quick-vanishing smile. "See you around."

"Yeah, see you," I breathed. He already had his car keys in his hand before he even made it out the front door.

"You told him what?" Craig screeched the second I finished telling him and Clyde what had happened. As it was it was already a week and a half after Kyle's "experiment" had taken place. The only reason I was telling them now was because they wouldn't leave me the fuck alone.

We were sprawled in the back of my truck by Stark's Pond, on the first day of the year that actually felt like spring even though it was practically June. If I didn't focus on our topic of conversation, or the fact that Craig's hand was currently resting curled around Clyde's thigh, I could almost pretend it was like old times again. Like last summer, when everything had been simpler.

"I told him no," I repeated quietly, surveying their expressions. Clyde looked bewildered. Craig just looked pissed.

"Why the fuck did you do that?" Craig demanded. His hazel eyes were livid as they bore into me.

"Because I–I–" it was very hard to form a coherent sentence with that kind of intensity focused on you. "I don't know!" I cried finally. "I don't know how I feel about him still, even after all this, and – and I don't think I like him like that. But when he…" I trailed off, shuddering slightly at the memory.

"Stan, if you liked it when he kissed you, how can you still say that you don't like him back?" Clyde reasoned gently.

"Because I – I _can't_, okay?" Even I could hear how desperate my own voice sounded. "I just _can't_."

"I was scared at first too, remember? You were the one who told me that just because you don't want to feel something doesn't mean it's not there. You were the one who talked me into making things right with this idiot." He smiled lovingly at Craig, who pushed him over playfully.

I had to admit, no matter how sorry I was feeling for myself, I was so happy for the two of them. I was glad that they had finally worked everything out.

Clyde sat up and made to punch Craig in the arm, but Craig caught his wrist and pulled some sort of fancy maneuver that somehow ended up with Clyde on his lap, Craig's arms securely around the brunette. Clyde made a great show of trying to escape, but Craig wasn't letting go anytime soon.

"Yes, and obviously that worked for you," I sighed, and they both shifted their attention back to me. Clyde finally settled, shifting his body to get comfortable in Craig's embrace. "But I don't think it's that easy. I told you guys, I don't _know_. I don't know what I felt, I don't know _if_ I felt… and I don't know if I like him."

"So figure it out," Craig said, as if it could really be that simple. "Give it time."

"That's what I've been _doing_," I grumbled. "And it's just as confusing as ever."

True to our promise, Kyle and I remained friends. We were a little less close than before, but not much – we still hung out nearly every day and we still had lunch together and all that.

He seemed a bit sadder around me than usual, but that was to be expected, I suppose.

As for me, I was baffled. Utterly baffled. I tried to work out how I felt when I was around him, but when I looked at him, all I saw was _Kyle_ – and I didn't have the slightest clue how Kyle made me feel.

Finals came up way faster than they should've, and it was really unbelievable thinking it was already the end of another school year.

In English, part of our final was to select a passage from one of the books we read this semester. We then had to read the passage aloud to the class and give our interpretation of it.

Picking a passage was extremely difficult for me. Nothing really stuck out. I asked Kyle what he was doing for his but he refused to tell me.

The day we had to present to the class, Kyle was among the first to go, as it was according to alphabetical order.

"I chose one from Our Mutual Friend," Kyle told our teacher, before shifting his gaze to the book he held. "'You know what I am going to say,'" he started, his eyes flicking back up and meeting mine as he read the next line. "'I love you. What other men may mean when they use that expression, I cannot tell; what I mean is, that I am under the influence of some tremendous attraction which I have resisted in vain, and which overmasters me.'"

My face was burning by this point. By the way he was looking up at me every few words, eyes wrought with feeling, I could tell he was saying _This is for you, Stan. This is what you do to me._ He had planned it that way.

His voice was filled with desperation as he continued. "'You could draw me to fire, you could draw me to water, you could draw me to the gallows, you could draw me to any death, you could draw me to anything I have most avoided, you could draw me to any exposure and disgrace. This and the confusion of my thoughts, so that I am fit for nothing, is what I mean by your being the ruin of me. But if you would offer a favourable answer in my offer of myself in marriage, you could draw me to any good – every good – with equal force.'"

There was a pause in which our eyes burned through each other, forming some sort of earth-shattering connection, before he looked back at our teacher and began his explanation, but the words coming out of his mouth no longer reached my ears.

Why this, of all things, was what finally caused my freaking epiphany, I will never know. Maybe it was the emotion in his voice as he recited Dickens, maybe it was the intensity in his gaze after he had finished. All I knew was that I couldn't take my eyes off him.

He was still just Kyle. But now I finally knew what Kyle meant to me.

Maybe I had felt that way all along, and it just took that kind of thing to drag it out of me. Or maybe it was that that finally made me fall for him. All I wanted was for him to look at me again. But as he finished his explanation and slunk back to his seat, my heart pounding so loud it was surely audible to everyone else in the class, his eyes stayed carefully averted and hidden under flaming curls.

In a way, that only proved to make me want him even more.

So why didn't I act right away? I'm a coward, that's why. I didn't know what to say or do. Everything felt so new to me. And so almost a full month went by as I worked up the courage to do anything.

I found, in that month, I was falling for him harder and faster than I thought physically possible.

"We've already been out here since one, when's this thing supposed to start, anyways?" I grumbled, trying to distract myself from the fact that our hands were so close on the grass they were practically touching.

"Any minute now," Kyle replied, sounding unconcerned.

"That's what you've been saying for the past hour and a half. You're sure it's tonight?"

"I'm sure, Stan. Just be patient."

It's difficult to be patient when you are by nature a very impatient person. I didn't get what the whole big deal was, anyways. But now that Kyle had dragged me out of my nice, warm bed to lie on my back in the grass of my backyard on a chilly Colorado summer night, I wanted to see some goddamn _action_.

"Look, there's the first one!" Kyle announced finally, lifting his hand from next to mine to point out a thin light streaking across the sky. I had to admit, it was pretty amazing to see. "Shooting star, make a wish."

I wish…

I wish for courage. I wish for standing up for what I want. I wish for happiness.

I wish for Kyle.

I rolled on my side to face him. He watched me out of the corner of his eyes, a bemused smile playing across his lips. Moonlight reflected in the electric green of his irises and bounced off his pale skin. I thought, in that moment, there would never be a boy more beautiful than him. And I had finally accepted that I felt that way about him.

I am in love with Kyle Broflovski, and I'm perfectly cool with that.

"What did you wish for?" I murmured.

"You really have to ask?" he replied, blinking sheepishly.

My heart started going double-time. He had wished for me. I had wished for Kyle, and Kyle had wished for me.

And, if I just sucked it up and stopped being a pussy, I could make both our wishes come true.

I sat up, and he followed suit. "Damn, those shooting stars really work," I muttered, more to myself than anything.

"Stan, what do you–"

I cut him off, leaning forward and crushing my mouth to his. He seemed surprised at first, and even started to pull away, before shuddering and leaning further into the kiss, one hand moving up to rub the back of my neck in a way that felt really fucking amazing.

I was kissing Kyle, and I knew what I wanted, and I was in heaven.

But all good things end at some point. I just hoped there would be many, many more good things to come.

I pulled away slowly. He followed me at first, like our lips were stuck together, before finally backing off. I found myself staring into his eyes, now glazed-over and blackened with lust, when there was a sudden, sharp pain to my arm.

"Ow! Fuck! Did you just punch me?"

"I knew you were lying, you bastard," he growled, but his expression remained playful. "You don't kiss someone like that unless there's some sort of spark."

"In my defense, I was telling the truth at the time," I replied, physically unable to stop grinning. "I guess I'm just too susceptible to your charms."

"Yeah, well, you should've given into temptation much sooner."

There was a silence in which we looked at each other, just looked, and even though we were the same people on the outside, I knew everything was completely different now. I prayed that this change was for the better.

"We're missing the whole meteor shower," I pointed out. I could see them in my peripheral vision. There were tons of them now, flying through space.

"Maybe we should make more wishes," he whispered mischievously, raising his pierced eyebrow suggestively. I didn't get what he meant until he leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine again.

We stayed in my backyard star-wishing long after the meteor shower was over. I decided I rather liked falling stars.

It was a bit disorienting to wake up the next morning with my arms wrapped around my best friend, but that didn't stop the excited butterflies from entering my stomach when I opened my eyes to see his head nestled into my chest.

The sun was barely up. Raven had woken me, per usual. He liked to get up at dawn and chirp along with all the outside birds. On normal days I just pulled the comforter over my head and went back to sleep, but this morning, despite the fact that I had only been asleep for a few hours, I didn't feel tired at all.

It wasn't helped by the fact that the comforter was on the floor, the sheets lost somewhere in the tangle of our legs.

Kyle sighed in his sleep, drawing my attention back to him. Floppy red curls flew everywhere, a mess of bed head hiding his face. I smiled and reached up to gently brush a few out of the way when his eyes slid sluggishly open. He smiled when he saw me.

"Hi," he breathed, voice slow and quiet. I recognized it from that night on the phone many months ago when he had only been half awake. The first time he told me he loved me, I realized.

"Hi yourself," I whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you up, sorry."

"'S okay," he replied, words jumbling together. He yawned, lifting his arms from where they clutched my shirt to stretch them out in front of him, slowly flexing his fingers. After this endeavor was finished, he shifted his position so that his face was buried in the crook of my neck. "You smell nice," he sighed, lips moving against my skin.

It wasn't long before his breathing slowed and deepened and he was asleep again.

I couldn't help but smile, because finally, I had Kyle, and he had me, and everything was as perfect as humanly possible, and we would make each other so, so happy.

"Nevermore," said Raven from his cage by the window. "Nevermore."

**The End.**

* * *

A/N: Thank you all so,_so_, SOOO much for all the support and reviews and alerts and just... well, everything, that you guys gave me on this story. Every time I got an email about this story you have no idea how excited it made me. I never would have been able to finish this thing without you guys, my readers, and I love you all. :3  
Thanks of course to my awesome friend DJ (penname SpazzKitty) for being my continued inspiration in pretty much everything I do xD And for not killing me for all the South Park references I make on a daily basis. And for making them right along with me half the time. I'm totally tripping balls, dude. And for being my faithful first reader of this entire fic. And for just being amazing in general. I love you so much platonically you have no idea. xD  
So yeah. I hope you guys all liked that last chapter =3 I'm sorry for that nasty cliffie I stuck you with last time, and I feel like I didn't really explain myself properly... there were a couple reasons: 1. I wanted to see if you guys could figure out what would happen next (a couple people did, mad props to you), 2. I wanted to build suspense because it's fun =) and 3. I enjoy torturing you guys. I'm sorry xD But judging by the fact that most of the reviews on the last chapter were people being upset about where I cut the chapter off, I would say that my plan worked. So yay!  
Uhh yeah. About the passage that Kyle quoted: We had to write an essay about it in AP Lit the other day and while I was reading it I was like oh my god that's the cutest thing ever. And so I decided to put it in =D That's only about half of the original passage that we looked at, but it's mostly the same. I didn't include Kyle's "explanation" of the passage because first of all, I didn't feel like writing it, and second, I haven't actually read Our Mutual Friend so all of it would pretty much be based off Wikipedia info o_o Wikipedia is like my anti-drug, I swear.  
I do have plans to write more fanfics in the near future, as I hope you'll be glad to hear. If you remember my poll which this was the winner of, I decided I'm going to write the other Style option that was in it just because... well, I want to. I also have a one-shot in the works. Those probably won't be up until around December-ish, though, because well... there's only a week left of October (kind of sad) and all my free time in November is going to be devoted to NaNoWriMo and I won't be able to do any fanfiction. But I will be back, I swear it!  
Okay it's song-citing time =) I don't own any of these bands or songs or lyrics or anything and I claim no rights to them all that fun stuff.  
Songs indirectly quoted within the fic: _I've Just Seen a Face_ by the Beatles;; _Monkey_ by the Counting Crows;; _Boulders_ by New Found Glory;; there might be more but I didn't write them down and I don't remember.  
Songs by chapter title:  
Chapter one;; _For Members Only_ by Northstar  
Chapter two;; _Hide Your Love Away_ by the Beatles  
Chapter three;; _How's It Going to Be_ by Third Eye Blind  
Chapter four;; _If You Don't, Don't_ by Jimmy Eat World  
Chapter five;; _The Wanderer's Guild_ by Armor for Sleep  
Chapter six;; _Makers and Breakers_ by Daphne Loves Derby  
Chapter seven;; _Electric Pink_ by the Promise Ring  
Chapter eight;; _Down_ by Blink 182  
Chapter nine;; _Lost in You_ by Sugarcult  
Chapter ten;; _Ants in My Pants_ by Say Anything  
Chapter eleven;; _Second Star to the Left, Go Until Dawn_ by Copeland  
Chapter twelve;; _Timberwolves at New Jersey_ by Taking Back Sunday  
So... I guess that's it =) I hope you enjoyed my story, thank you all once again for reading/reviewing/alerting/faving, :3  
Hope I see you next time, even though that probably won't be for a month or so, but... if you leave me a review I promise I'll still reply =)  
So till then, peace out.

~Alice


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